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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950195">i demand to dig my own grave</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/M0stlyVoid/pseuds/M0stlyVoid'>M0stlyVoid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Happy Ending, Humor, Inspired by Psych (TV), LCDrarry, Lights Camera Drarry 2020, M/M, Murder Mystery, Seer Draco Malfoy, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), well...sorta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:33:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/M0stlyVoid/pseuds/M0stlyVoid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco finds himself in hot water with the Aurors, and in a burst of panicked inspiration manages to wiggle out of it by claiming to be a Seer. There's just one little problem– Senior Auror Harry Potter, the Prat Who Lived, who's known him for a decade, knows <i>full well</i> Draco doesn't have a single psychic bone in his body and seems determined to pull him up for it. Now, the Department is demanding he help them solve cases, Potter's looming over his shoulder at every turn, and worst of all, he hasn't had a shag in weeks because of all this bother. What's a pseudo-Seer to do?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Lights Camera Drarry 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. you brought a date to a crime scene?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for LCDrarry prompt #10- Psych the series- "i know, you know, that i'm not telling the truth..."</p><p>thanks so very much to the mods for running this fest and helping me out when real-world events necessitated an extension!</p><p>thank you to A and B for your beta help, support, and encouragement. first in the alphabet, first in my heart 😘</p><p>title and chapter names are all stolen from various episodes of psych</p><p> </p><p>there are a few easter eggs from the show sprinkled throughout- comment if you find any!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>”Draco,” Lucius sighed, crouching down to his son’s level. “Draco, stop crying.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It didn’t help. Draco had worked himself into a proper tantrum and couldn’t stop sobbing even if he wanted to.</i>
</p><p><i>“Draco, do you understand </i>why<i> you’re in trouble? It’s not because you broke the figurine– I can buy your mother a new one. It’s because you </i>lied<i> about breaking it.”</i></p><p>
  <i>“I’m- sorry- Father- I- just- didn’t- want- you- to- be- ANGRY,” Draco wailed, hiccuping through his words.</i>
</p><p><i>“I know, son. But this is an important lesson– only lie if you know there’s no way you can get caught. Only lie if you’re prepared to keep that lie going forever, and can make everyone around you believe it. Otherwise, if you get found out, the people you’ve been lying to will be even </i>more<i> angry. Do you understand?”</i></p><p>
  <i>Draco sniffled and furiously scrubbed at his eyes. “I thought all lying was bad,” he whispered.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lucius smiled at that and reached out, tilting Draco’s head up to meet his eyes. “Did your mother tell you that?”</i>
</p><p><i>Solemnly, Draco nodded, stuffing his fingers into his mouth. Lucius sighed and tugged them free. “Well, she’s right– you shouldn’t lie to your parents, because we’ll always find out. But do you want to know a secret?” He leaned in closer. “I lie a </i>lot<i>, at work. But nobody there </i>knows<i> I’m lying, because there’s nothing to prove that I am. But this afternoon, you were running around even after your mother asked you to stop because your broom kept hitting the table legs. We knew right away that you weren’t telling the truth. Do you see the difference?”</i></p><p>
  <i>Draco’s eyes were stinging, but he nodded slowly. “Yes, Father.”</i>
</p><p><i>Lucius smiled and stood back up. “Good.” He turned and walked out of the room, pausing briefly in the doorway. “You’re still going to stay in your room until dinner, and you’re grounded for the next week. </i>Don’t<i> try to get the elves to call Pansy for you, I’ve already told them they aren’t allowed.” He shut the door firmly as Draco’s sobs began escalating again.</i></p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>“Hang on– hang on, Merlin you’re eager, let me get the door unlocked, will you?” Draco fumbles his key once, but finally fits it into the lock and gets the door open, despite the 6’4” of Scandinavinan muscle plastered along his back, nibbling at his ear.</p><p>They stumble in through the foyer, scattering articles of clothing as they go– shoes kicked against a wall, ties thrown carelessly over the couch, trousers wrinkled in the corner. Draco’s breathless and very, very hard and tugging– Sven? Lars? all of Norway’s National team were named something like that– towards the bedroom when a flash from this morning’s headline story pops into his mind and brings him to a stop.</p><p>Bjørn turns and wrinkles his handsome, Nordic brow. “Is there problem?”</p><p>Draco blinks, then smiles in what he hopes is an alluring fashion. “No, no. Just– the bedroom is through that door there,” he gestures straight ahead, “I’m going to just nip to the kitchen for some water...I have a feeling we’ll need it later.” He winks.</p><p>Knut’s face turns lascivious, and he heads through to Draco’s bedroom, tugging his too-small T-shirt over his head as he goes.</p><p>Draco watches him go dazedly for a minute, then shakes his head and darts into the kitchen, distractedly waving his wand to set two glasses to filling while scrabbling through the scattered newspaper on his kitchen table, shoving aside a bowl of apples in his search for the right section. He finally snatches up the front page and scans through the article until he finds the line he was looking for.</p><p>“Idiots,” he mutters, grabbing a pen and savagely circling a quote from one of the interviewees, adding his own note in the blank space next to the column. He whistles once, and when Cassandra flaps her way to his side, he tears free the section, folds it over, and scribbles <i>Auror Dept</i> over the back. “Take this straight to whoever’s on night duty, and don’t let up until they’ve opened it and read what I wrote, there’s a love,” he murmurs to her. Cassandra allows one kiss to her head before she cuffs him with a wing and takes off through the window into the night.</p><p>Draco breathes in for a moment, then grabs the water glasses and heads for the bedroom, mind already on his plans for the rest of the night.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Bang!</i> “Aurors! Open up!”
</p><p>Draco sits straight up in bed, clutching the coverlet to his chest. His head is foggy and his mouth tastes like– well, there aren’t polite words for it. </p><p>Beside him, a blonde lump grunts. “Door.”</p><p>“Yes, thank you,” Draco snaps, wincing as his head throbs in time with the repeated pounding on his door. Groaning, he forces himself to his feet and starts rummaging for clean clothing.</p><p>Minutes later, he’s skidding in socked feet down the hallway, pulling a hoodie over his head. He’s got one arm through when he throws the door open. “Yes! Hello! I am at home, if you would have just given me <i>one second</i> you would have known that, I’ll have you know i was <i>asleep</i>...” he trails off, pushing his second arm into the sleeve and swallowing as he stares at the wands pointed directly at his face.</p><p>“Draco Malfoy?”</p><p>“Yes…? What is this about?”</p><p>“We’re going to need you to come with us down to headquarters– we’ve a number of questions for you. I’m afraid you’ll need to come now.” The Auror in front, a somewhat familiar-looking chap with an unpleasant expression, narrows his eyes at Draco and points his wand forward with a bit more intent.</p><p>Wincing, Draco glances down at his ratty joggers. “Er...well. I’m afraid now isn’t the most convenient of times for me, gentlemen– I could perhaps call on the department this afternoon…?”</p><p>“Sorry, Malfoy,” the lead Auror says, not sounding sorry whatsoever. “You’ll have to come directly, and you’ll need to hand over your wand first.”</p><p>“Right,” Draco says faintly. “Right, well, you see, my wand is in my bedroom, and I’m afraid I can’t—hey!”</p><p>He’s pushed aside as all four Aurors– four, really?– shove into his flat, fanning out and banging open doors as they look for the bedroom. Sighing, Draco folds his arms and waits.</p><p>“Oi! I’ve found– <i>holy shit</i>, is that Lucas Larsen?”</p><p>Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t even want to look out his front door– no doubt his neighbors have heard the ruckus and are poking their heads out to see what’s going on. He may have to move.</p><p>Last night’s <i>very</i> athletic romp– Lucas, apparently– has been chivvied into his clothing by the Ministry’s finest. He approaches Draco on his way out, brushing off an Auror with one of those huge– <i>talented, incredible</i>– hands before he pauses at the door. “Draco,” he says warmly, bending down for a kiss, which Draco returns enthusiastically. He hears one of the Aurors clear their throat pointedly and resists the urge to send a rude gesture their way. “You will call me later, ja? These British <i>politi</i>, they are very rude.” Lucas frowns over his shoulder, and then with one more kiss (and perhaps a cheeky bum-squeeze, but Draco’s not telling), he’s on his way.</p><p>Draco watches him go forlornly, wistfully imagining all the glorious morning sex he was now being denied. With a sigh, he turns back to the gaggle of Aurors now standing awkwardly about in his entryway, noting that one of them is holding his wand. “Alright, well, now that you’ve thoroughly ruined my morning plans and destroyed my reputation with my neighbors, shall we?”</p>
<hr/><p>An hour later, and Draco is wondering if he concentrated enough he’d be able to self-AK without a wand.</p><p>“I already <i>told you</i>. I <i>don’t</i> know where the rest of the stolen shit is– and frankly, I don’t understand why you think I’m involved at all? I already filled out that form, you <i>know</i> where I was during all the robberies!”</p><p>The unpleasant Auror, who Draco has now learned is called Justin Finch-Fletchley and was apparently in his year at Hogwarts (and who seemed incredibly offended that Draco didn’t remember him; Draco isn’t sure why he’s expected to remember a <i>Hufflepuff</i> of all people– even if he’s got a whiff of old money about him, it’s <i>Muggle</i> money, and he’s working in <i>trade</i> now), shoots him a sneer. “Well, <i>Malfoy</i>, it’s just that we’re not quite sure we believe what you’ve written down. You see–”</p><p>Aspirations-For-Peerage is cut off when the interrogation room door bangs open, revealing—Draco groans and sinks down in his chair—none other than Senior Auror Harry Potter, wearing a thunderous frown. “Justin, I’m in the middle of something important, why did you call me down?”</p><p>Social-climber perks up, much like a dog looking for approval. Draco amuses himself for a moment, imagining this stern-faced Potter tossing a tennis ball and offering treats while Finch-Fletchley bounces about on the floor. He tunes back in to hear “—and it just added up, Harry– he’s gotten it right too many times! He’s <i>got</i> to be involved!”</p><p>Draco straightens at that. “Hey!”</p><p>“Shut up, Malfoy,” Potter growls. “Look, Justin– I appreciate your...initiative, but if you really have convinced yourself that <i>Draco Malfoy</i> is some sort of criminal mastermind, selling out his co-conspirators out of some sociopathic form of enjoyment, I’m afraid that you’re simply an idiot. Now, if there’s nothing else, I think you should wrap this up and send Malfoy home– he’s looking a bit worse for wear.”</p><p>Draco considers protesting the insult, but a glance down at his raggedy Weird Sisters-logo hoodie stops his mouth. He notices Potter’s glance at his hair and resists the urge to flatten it down, instead directing a scowl Potter’s way. He thinks he sees one side of Potter’s mouth quirk up in response.</p><p>“But–” Finch-Fletchley protests, looking desperate. “Harry, <i>how has he known everyone that’s been guilty?</i> The last <i>five</i> letters he’s sent, they’ve all been right! How would he know anything about who’s guilty if he’s not involved somehow?”</p><p>Potter considers that, then turns to face Draco. “He makes a good point, Malfoy. How <i>do</i> you keep knowing who’s guilty in these robberies, when the entire Auror force hasn’t been able to figure it out?”</p><p>“Wh-–” Draco flounders for a moment. “How did you even know that was me??”</p><p>Potter raises an eyebrow. “You used <i>your own owl</i> to send the tips in, Malfoy. Do you really think it was that hard to figure out the owner of one of only a handful of eagle owls in all of the British Isles?”</p><p>Well, shit. Draco maybe shouldn’t have made it a habit of sending his tips in half-sozzled– he probably would have thought of that if he’d been sober.</p><p>“Alright, fine,” he concedes, thinking fast. “The truth of it is– is–”</p><p>Potter and Finch-Fletchley are both staring at him expectantly now.</p><p>Draco is hungover, sleep-deprived, and still a little dick-drunk. He’s clearly not in his right mind– that’s the only excuse he can come up with for what comes out of his mouth next.</p><p>“I’m a Seer!”</p><p>Both Potter’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “I’m sorry,” he says slowly, “would you care to repeat that?”</p><p>Shit. <i>Shit</i>.</p><p>“I– yes. I’m a Seer! And I’ve been– having visions, about the robberies. A lot of them! And so I thought I’d...help out…”</p><p>Potter’s arms are crossed, and Draco nervously notes that he doesn’t look even remotely convinced.</p><p>“Malfoy– Draco,” Potter says gently, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “You’re...not a Seer. You’ve never been a Seer. Don’t you think this would have come up before?”</p><p>Draco bristles. “Excuse me, Potter! I think I’d know better than <i>you</i> if I were a Seer! And I will have you know that the Malfoy lineage has included <i>plenty</i> of witches and wizards with Divination abilities! It just– skips generations, sometimes. And furthermore! Who are <i>you</i> to say that it hasn’t come up before this?”</p><p>Potter looks absolutely flabbergasted by Draco’s outburst. They stare at each other for a tense moment.</p><p>“A Seer,” Finch-Fletchley breathes. Draco jumps. He’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. When he glances back over, he’s disconcerted to see Justin staring at him in awe. “Harry, imagine! Think how many more cases we could solve, if we had a Seer working with us!”</p><p>Potter looks like he’s barely holding back an eye roll. “Justin. <i>Malfoy isn’t a Seer</i>. Don’t you think we would have noticed at school?”</p><p>Justin ignores this. “Oh, we have to tell the Minister! But first– Draco, can you read anything off me?” Potter scoffs at that, but Draco ignores him because– the Minister? But in for a Sickle and all that, so he turns his attention to Finch-Fletchley.</p><p>Resting his chin on one hand, he lets his eyes unfocus just a bit to take in the other man’s body language– his posture, his expressions, his gestures. He notes that Justin keeps tapping his left hand flat against the table, three quick taps in a row every few minutes. He notes that the robes he’s in are just a little too tight. And he notes the bags under his eyes– the man looks exhausted.</p><p>Right. Here goes nothing.</p><p>Draco straightens. “Your wedding ring is in your other set of robes. Sent them off to be repaired, did you? A week ago, about? It’s in your left pocket.”</p><p>Finch-Fletchley’s jaw drops. “How did you– Merlin’s pants,” he breathes. “Harry, see! He knew! Oh, Draco, you–” He reaches out and clasps Draco’s right hand in his, eyes shining. “Lisa has been <i>so angry</i> when we thought I lost it. She’s been making me sleep on the couch until I find it! I can’t believe– <i>thank you</i>.” He stands and darts out of the interrogation room.</p><p>Draco examines his hand before wiping it off on his joggers, then glances up at Potter, who’s staring at him in disbelief. “Yes, Potter? Did you have a question, too? Perhaps you’re looking for some insight into your recent romantic failures?”</p><p>Potter sneers. “Oh, you think you know something about me, Malfoy? What, did you <i>have a vision</i> about my sex life? Not sure you can chalk your <i>nighttime fantasies</i> up to a so-called Seer ability…”</p><p>Draco sniffs. “Hardly, Potter. I can read the papers like anyone else, you know.”</p><p>Potter flushes, opening his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by the door opening once more.</p><p>Draco can feel the blood drain from his face.</p><p>“Harry!” booms Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for <i>fucking</i> Magic. “Justin here tells me we’ve caught ourselves a Seer– and that it’s the Malfoy boy! Hello there, Draco, hope my Aurors are treating you well?” Behind him, Justin is beaming, and yet another Auror, one with an incredibly unfortunate face, is observing with a sour expression.</p><p>“Perfectly well,” Draco manages, struggling to keep his voice even. “Auror generosity is known the world over– I’m honoured to be a recipient of their hospitality.”</p><p>Shacklebolt chuckles, flashing his gleaming politician’s smile. “Quite,” he agrees, before turning to Potter. “Now, Harry– Justin has informed me that not only has Draco provided key tips to identify the perpetrators of the last five robberies, but also he witnessed a vision just now, in this room?”</p><p>Potter, Draco is amused to note, is slowly turning red. “Sir,” he grits out, “I’m not sure we can accurately describe what Draco said as a...as a proper vision. It was more a–—”</p><p>“He told me exactly where my wedding ring is, Harry! He knew I’d sent my robes for repairs!” Justin interrupts.</p><p>“Well we don’t <i>know</i> he’s right about your ring, do we?” Harry snaps, before taking a deep breath. “Look. Minister. I’ve known Malfoy for a decade, now. I think we would have known if he were a Seer before now– wouldn’t it have manifested, say, during the War?”</p><p>Draco drops his gaze to his hands.</p><p>“Not a lot is known about Seer magic, Harry,” Shacklebolt chastises, “which you of all people should be aware of. There’s no set time for the ability to reveal itself. Now, Mr Malfoy–” Draco lifts his head up again “–I’ve brought with me Hugh Johnson, who handles Ministry contracting. Auror Finch-Fletchley’s first-hand account, plus your already-established record of case accuracy, is enough for the prerequisites– we’d like you to sign on as an official Ministry consultant!”</p><p>“Oh– I– I’m very flattered, but I’m not sure– it’s a recent development, you see, and I’m not sure how much help I’d be–” Draco stammers.</p><p>Shacklebolt’s smile changes, then, to something sharper. “Ah, I apologize, Mr Malfoy– there’s been a misunderstanding. I am making an official request that you serve your Ministry as a Seer with the Auror department– and, unfortunately, as you’re no doubt aware, failure to comply with an official request, as well as falsification of magical ability, are both punishable by time in Azkaban.”</p><p>Draco is just barely able to keep himself from losing last night’s dinner onto the interrogation table.</p><p>“So, I’ll leave you boys to it. Mr. Malfoy, we are delighted to have you and your abilities on board in the Ministry’s ongoing effort to make our world safer for everyone– I, personally, am <i>very</i> interested to see the outcome of your first few cases.”</p><p>With that, the Minister exits the room, and Johnson steps forward with a pinched smile. “I’ll need your signature on quite a few lines here, Mr. Malfoy.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. it’s just that laws keep changing, it’s very hard to keep up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>”Father, I thought anyone who can’t trace their bloodlines back at least five generations isn’t even worth talking to?” Draco struggled to keep up with his father’s brisk pace through the Ministry halls.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lucius glanced down and set an approving hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Normally, son, you’re right. We’d never socialize with the likes of Fleming, nor would he be allowed to step foot anywhere in the Manor or on our property. But in this case– Fleming runs the team in charge of investment oversight at Gringotts. Nasty, grasping little fellow, common as dirt and risen above his station as he might be– but he has the power to keep our accounts off the auditor’s radar. So, a kind word here, a few details tucked away to make him feel special, feel important– the distaste of having to make nice with a Mudblood is well worth it in the long run, as it helps keep the family accounts running along nicely, with no interference. Do you understand?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco wrinkled his nose. “I suppose. It just doesn’t seem right, that someone like <i>that</i> has any say over <i>our</i> funds.”</i>
</p><p><i>Lucius chuckled. “Quite right, Draco. Nevertheless, we must at all times appear to be in accordance with current Ministry policies, even if they are misguided. Now, I want you to pay attention– we’re meeting with Mr. McBride next, in Games, and </i>his<i> family stretches back to just after the implementation of the Statute, so I need you to make sure you watch him closely, and let me know after if you notice him lying. I’ve worked too hard to bring the next Cup to England to let someone else get assured seats in the Top Box.”</i></p><p>
  <i>“Yes, Father.”</i>
</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>“I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again– Draco Malfoy, you’re a fucking idiot,” Theo says sagely, topping Draco’s glass off.</p><p>Groaning, Draco thunks his head onto Theo’s kitchen table. “I know it, Theo. What was I thinking?? A <i>Seer</i>?? Merlin, and now if I’m not able to <i>prove it</i> for who knows how long, I’ll be thrown in <i>Azkaban</i>! Oh lord, I can’t believe this– to be taken down in my prime, and <i>just</i> after I’d bagged that hot piece from the Norweigian Quidditch team…”</p><p>Theo suddenly looks much more interested. “Wait, Lucas Larsen– you slept with him?? You didn’t say! How was he? Is he big <i>everywhere</i>?”</p><p>Draco sits up and preens a bit before he snatches up the highball glass and takes a sip. Ahh– apple brandy, Theo did spoil him so. “Yes, he was there yesterday morning when the Ministry’s best and brightest took me <i>down the nick</i>. Theo, when I tell you the man is good with his hands– those close-ups of him clutching the Quaffle they publish in the sport section do <i>not</i> do him justice. I don’t think I’ve ever—wait, hang on, don’t distract me! That’s not important– although you <i>should</i> be jealous, just know that much– you need to help me figure out what I’m going to do!”</p><p>Theo pouts. “I’m not sure how this is something that I <i>need</i> to do, Draco. You’ve gotten yourself into this. Lying to <i>Harry Potter</i> of all people, and the <i>Minister</i>, that you’re a Seer? That would be stupid <i>any</i> time, but considering you’ve, what, essentially been the only reason they’ve made their last few arrests– and we <i>will</i> be coming back to what got into you, to make you send <i>tips</i> out to the Auror like some sort of junior private eye—”</p><p>“Vast quantities of gin, normally,” Draco mutters sulkily to his glass.</p><p>Theo continues undeterred. “—the point of the matter is, Draco, you’ve walked yourself into the quagmire this time, and I simply do not have the time to help walk you out. I’m not sure what you’d even expect me to <i>do</i>– it sounds like you’re just lounging about waiting for them to call on you for help, and it’s not like I’m going to be able to help you with <i>that</i>. Some of us have jobs, you know.”</p><p>Draco sighs. “Yes, yes, your career at Gringotts is taking off any minute now, you’re a valued member of the team, et cetera et cetera. I still don’t understand <i>why</i> you insist on being employed, Salazar knows you don’t need the money. They give you lunch breaks, do they not? And time off– I’ll grant that I don’t really know what having a job is like, but surely they don’t chain you to your desk?”</p><p>Theo rolls his eyes. “Let me rephrase—I am <i>not going to help you with this</i>. I don’t have the time, and more importantly, I don’t want to. Maybe this will teach you something– a consequence or two would do you good, I reckon.”</p><p>Draco sniffs. “Theo, don’t be Celestina Warbeck’s most recent attempt at a comeback album– that’s ridiculous. Consequences don’t exist, and if they did, they certainly wouldn’t <i>teach</i> me anything. Fine, though– if you won’t help me, I’ll just figure it out myself.” Petulantly, he swallows down the rest of the brandy in one swallow, gritting his teeth against the burn.</p><p>Theo’s just smiling indulgently at him again, as if Draco’s made some terribly funny joke. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll figure <i>something</i> out, you prat. Now, look, as lovely as this has been– it’s ten in the morning on a Sunday, and I did have plans for the day. Do you want to Floo to Pansy’s together, or are you planning on wallowing a bit longer before brunch?”</p><p>Heaving a sigh, Draco gets to his feet. “Fine. But listen– not a word of this to anyone there. The absolute <i>last</i> thing I need is that harpy getting her claws into this. I’ve so been looking forward to letting her know that Norway’s star Chaser wouldn’t be even the <i>slightest</i> bit interested in her, and this little misunderstanding would overshadow it entirely.”</p><p>Chuckling, Theo pours them each another brandy, gesturing towards Draco with his glass. “Chin chin, old chap. One more for courage before we enter the viper’s den. I think Stori’s coming this time, did I tell you? I can’t wait to watch this month’s desperate avoidance game.”</p><p>Draco groans, tossing back the drink and grimacing. “From bad to worse, Teddy. I thought she was still in America?”</p><p>“I did too! Pansy called late last night to tell me–”</p>
<hr/><p>Draco– well, he isn’t <i>hungover</i>, certainly not, Malfoys don’t <i>get</i> hungover– but he’s certainly feeling poorly, the next morning, when he’s woken by the decidedly unpleasant sound of an owl’s talons against his bedroom window.</p><p>“Merlin,” he mutters, rolling over and jamming a pillow over his head. “Blinky!” A pop indicates his elf’s arrival. “Blinky, please remove that creature, at once.”</p><p>She tuts. “Master Draco should have had more water before he went to bed last night.” Draco winces when the curtains are flung aside and mid-morning light floods the room. “Oh! Off! Get off! In all my years, Blinky has <i>never</i> met such a rude owl…out! <i>Out</i>!” The owl screeches once, and Draco contemplates death as the window is slammed shut.</p><p>“Who’s writing at this hour, Blinky?”</p><p>The letter is shoved under his pillow and hits his nose. “Blinky is <i>not</i> Master Draco’s social secretary. The owl had the Ministry’s collar on, though. Master Draco had best move his liquor-soaked behind and begin his day.”</p><p>“Oh, hell,” Draco groans, rolling onto his back and holding the letter up, squinting at the garish Ministry seal. “Yes, fine, you’re right, I should have had more water, I shouldn’t have let Pansy talk me into that bottle of absinthe, I bow to your superior wisdom. Would you please make me some eggs and fetch a hydrating potion so I don’t vomit all over your excellent cooking?”</p><p>Blinky huffs. “Flattery will get Master Draco nowhere, and he should have learned that by now.” She leaves his room with another pop, but Draco likes to think that out of sympathy for his delicate condition she isn’t as loud as usual.</p><p>He breaks the seal and begins to scan the letter’s contents, one hand massaging his forehead. “The Auror department requires the presence of Draco L Malfoy, contracted Seer, at the Ministry this morning at 11AM sharp...Merlin, thanks for the notice!” Grumbling, he snatches up the potion Blinky’d left on his nightstand, stares at the wall silently bemoaning his fate while waiting for it to kick in, then gets up to get ready.</p>
<hr/><p>At 11:10, Draco strolls into the Auror bullpen, suited and booted and feeling much more like himself.</p><p>He’s immediately snatched by the arm and pulled into a meeting room. “Malfoy, you’re late,” Potter snaps, hauling him into the nearest chair.</p><p>Draco scoffs. “Barely, Potter. Your little <i>note</i> didn’t give me much forewarning, you know.”</p><p>“Didn’t give you– the owl was sent at <i>nine</i>– Merlin, whatever. Look, I didn’t want to call you in at all, but Kingsley’s insisted that we bring you in for this case to get you used to how we operate. Make no mistake, Malfoy, I have much, <i>much</i> better things I could be working on right now, but the Minister has specifically requested that I escort you to the crime scene and remain with you throughout the day, so you are going to stay quiet and follow my lead, <i>not</i> cause a scene, <i>not</i> make up any ridiculous visions, and we’ll wrap this case up within an hour. Is that clear?”</p><p>“ '<i>Is that clear?</i>' ” Draco mutters, crossing his arms petulantly.</p><p>Potter glances at him sharply, pausing in shuffling through the case file in front of him. “What was that?”</p><p>“Nothing, Senior Auror Potter <i>sir</i>,” Draco snaps out smartly, dropping a salute.</p><p>Interestingly, Potter’s ears turn red. “Shut up, Malfoy,” he retorts, shoving the case file across the table. “Now, look. We’re heading over to one of the registered vampire clan’s headquarters– they’ve filed a complaint regarding an allegedly stolen necklace, are claiming it’s a family heirloom, threatened to cause a scene in the Atrium if we didn’t send someone over, so lucky you, this is your first case. The family name is Vargan, and they’re saying this necklace was passed down throughout their family since before they came to England–”</p><p>“They’re lying,” Draco says absently, flipping through the file. </p><p>“They’re– Malfoy, what are you talking about? How could you possibly know that?”</p><p>Draco glances up and quirks an eyebrow, then looks back down at the file. Through his eyelashes he can see Potter scowling, and he has to hide a smile.</p><p>“Listen– I don’t care <i>what</i> Kingsley and fucking Justin say, you and I <i>both</i> know you’re not a Seer, so drop the fucking act. You should know that Johnson is going to be personally reviewing every single case you’re involved in, and that <i>I’m</i> going to be writing a majority of the reports, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable here.”</p><p>“Why, Auror Potter,” Draco simpers, “your dedication to law and order is setting my heart a-flutter. I’ve always known since school what a lover of rules and regulations you are, it’s just <i>thrilling</i> to see you upholding them with so much <i>authority</i> now. And for your information, I know they’re lying about this necklace or whatever it is, because of their names.”</p><p>“Their...names?” Potter asks, furrowing his brow. The pink of his ears has migrated to his cheeks.</p><p>Draco sighs heavily, stabbing a finger down about halfway through the report. “<i>Yes</i>, Potter, their <i>names</i>. The complainant’s last name comes from a word that means <i>leatherworker</i>, and the people they’re claiming ‘stole’ the necklace–” Draco’s gratified to see Potter wince at his use of air quotes “–are from the Kovacki clan– which comes from a word that means <i>blacksmith</i>. Now, I’m no investigatory specialist or anything, but doesn't it seem more likely that <i>they</i> were the original owners of this necklace, and are simply retrieving their own property? Why are the Aurors even getting involved in this at all, anyway? Shouldn’t there be registration papers indicating who this belongs to, and a magical Trace to track it down? If it’s truly as old as they’re claiming, it’s incredibly valuable and probably filled with old family magic– aren’t items like that registered as a matter of course? We’ve several family heirlooms we had to yank Ministry magic prints off throughout the years.”</p><p>Potter gapes at him for a moment. “How do you—whatever. It’s...certainly a theory. As far as the paperwork…” He flips through to the last page and frowns down at the words. “...I hate to admit it, but you’re right. It looks like the original paperwork was destroyed in a flood shortly after the clan moved here, and– oh.” Harry sighs and scrubs his hand over his face.</p><p>Draco grabs the file back and reads the rest of the page quickly. “–and they’ve been petitioning the Ministry yearly to help get it re-registered with our Antiquities department, but have been denied every time because, quote, ‘Magical Being possessions are not in the purview of the Ministry of Magic, and claims that the item is imbued with powerful magicks are unsubstantiated as Creatures are not known to possess the ability to empower an object via inheritance laws.’ Oh very <i>nice</i>, Potter, not only are you reducing a powerful vampire clan to <i>creatures</i>, but you’re denying them a basic citizen’s right?”</p><p>“Hey!” Potter cries, sounding affronted. “It wasn’t <i>me personally</i> who’s denied this, you know!”</p><p>“Oh no, of <i>course</i> not, why should you take accountability? You’re only the face of the Ministry, after all,” Draco scoffs, snapping the file shut and standing. “Well? Are we Apparating or do we need to Floo?”</p>
<hr/><p>Potter’s Side-Along is abysmal, which Draco didn’t need any Seer ability at all to predict. He stumbles a bit and breathes through his nose, trying to calm his stomach, before finally looking askance at the forbidding iron gates. A glance to his left shows Potter looking similarly apprehensive.</p><p>“Well…” Potter says, squaring his shoulders and marching up to the gate, which swings open at his approach. “Let’s get this over with. Remember, Malfoy– stay quiet, let me take down an official report, and we’ll be out of here as soon as possible. <i>Don’t</i> try and ‘have a vision’–” and here Potter’s sending his own mocking air-quotes Draco’s way, the prat, “–they won’t tolerate that type of foolishness.”</p><p>Draco rolls his eyes and lengthens his stride to draw even with Potter as they walk up the short walk to the front door. “Just goes to show you know <i>nothing</i> about vampires, Potter– the clans have always enjoyed a bit of pageantry.”</p><p>He thinks he hears Potter mutter something unflattering about overacting, but graciously ignores it as the front doors creak open and a tall, unsettlingly pretty woman steps out to greet them.</p><p>Potter gulps, then steps forward and extends his hand. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Senior Auror Potter, and this is my...associate, Draco Malfoy. We’re here about the stolen necklace?”</p><p>The woman looks briefly down at Potter’s hand, then skips her gaze over to Draco, who’s trying to look like he belongs here. “Malfoy, did you say? Your great-great-grandfather Brutus was very kind to us when we first moved to this island. I am Lena. You are welcome in my family’s home.” She turns and sweeps back through the doorway without even acknowledging Potter, who’s now standing with his hand sticking out looking stupid. Draco sneers at him and follows her through, making a point to stay a few feet back as she leads them down a long, dimly-lit hallway.</p><p>A clatter of shoes precedes Potter catching up with him. “What the fuck!” he hisses in Draco’s ear. “She acted like I wasn’t even there! <i>They’re</i> the ones that wanted the Ministry involved!”</p><p>Draco stifles a chuckle as they’re led into a vast study. “Not used to being passed over any more, Potter? I’d get used to it– the old vampire clans don’t give a fig about who you are. Their only concerns are about whom they owe favours to, and they’ve long memories.”</p><p>They both sit on the couch opposite Lena’s chosen armchair, and Draco’s amused to watch Potter fidget out of the corner of his eye as the vampire quietly observes them.</p><p>Finally, she speaks. “While I’m glad the Ministry has seen fit to send representatives, I find it necessary to remark upon the delay from when we issued the complaint and your arrival, and the lack of concern we received from everyone involved. I understand the Ministry doesn’t care for the issues of Beings, but this necklace is very, very old and very, very powerful, and in the wrong hands could be a deadly force. I am disappointed at the response we’ve received.”</p><p>Oh, Draco can <i>feel</i> Potter cringing at that. “I...apologize for the lack of care you’ve received, Ms...Lena,” he says awkwardly. “I can assure you, my consultant and I are here to get the full story, and we take this very seriously.”</p><p>Lena watches him for a moment, then sighs. “I suppose that you’re the best we could have expected.” Potter looks affronted as she dismisses him yet again and turns back to Draco. “I must say, I’m surprised to see a Malfoy in the employ of the Ministry. My understanding is that your family preferred to stay out of any official role and focused their efforts behind the scenes. What has caused you to break from tradition?”</p><p>“I’m a Seer,” Draco says baldly, ignoring the elbow Potter sends not-so-discreetly into his side. “And while I’ve no doubt the necklace is as old and powerful as you claim, I couldn’t help but get a feeling as I read the initial complaint that quite a few details were omitted, were they not?”</p><p>Lena raises her eyebrows. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, Mr Malfoy.”</p><p>Draco inspects his nails. “I think you do. The necklace isn’t originally your family’s, is it? It was actually made by someone from the Kovacki clan, wasn’t it? And your family moved here to escape them when you stole it, and you burned the paperwork so nobody could trace its origins accurately. Isn’t that right?”</p><p>Silence. Potter’s jaw is hanging open as he stares at Draco, and Lena’s eyes are narrowed. Draco refuses to meet anyone’s gaze, concealing his nerves in an indolent sprawl back on the couch cushions. If he’s wrong…</p><p>The silence is finally broken by, of all things, Lena’s laughter. Draco tries to school his dumbstruck expression into neutrality, but he’s not sure he succeeds. “I must admit, Mr Malfoy, I am impressed. I had my doubts, as I do not recall any of your predecessors mentioning any Seer blood in your family line, but I’m unable to lie to you when you figured it out so exactly. Yes, I will admit it– the necklace was not ours originally, but it’s been in my family’s care for hundreds of years now, and what’s that quaint human phrase– possession is nine-tenths of the law? Thus, we will still be requiring your assistance in retrieving it.”</p><p>“Of course,” Draco mutters, glancing around the austerely-decorated room, noting an enormous family tapestry across one entire wall with one prominent burnmark near the bottom, a table near the fireplace with crumpled letters scattered across the top, and a shelf filled with gold curiosities, one space in the middle empty, with a dent in the wall nearby. He glances over to Potter to see if he’s going to do anything but stare uselessly, but the bloody <i>Senior Auror</i> is still watching him bemusedly, so Draco dismisses him and turns back to Lena.</p><p>He lets his eyes unfocus just a bit and takes in her rigid posture, how tense her hands are in her lap, despite the amused smile on her face. He notes that her clothes are wrinkled, as if from too-long wear, and while vampires do not get undereye bags (lucky them), she looks pale– paler than she should.</p><p>Right, well, nothing for it but to hope he’s right yet again.</p><p>“Tell me, Lena,” he says softly, leaning forward. “How long has it been since your youngest clan member fled? Did your elders formally disown them yet, or is that still to come? Has anyone dared yet to return their letters?”</p><p>Shockingly, Lena’s eyes suddenly fill with tears. “How did you—my god,” she whispers, one hand flying to her mouth. “You really– yes, Anna left us three months ago, now. Our Básci has begun the disownment but it isn’t complete yet...none of us have written to her. We don’t even know why...they’re burning her letters when they find one. Básci was so angry, he flew into a rage like I’ve never seen him since we moved here. What does this have to do with the necklace?” </p><p>Potter makes what can only be described as a squeak, but Draco ignores him. “Lena, Anna has fallen in love with someone from the Kovacki family. She stole the necklace and fled to be with her lover. She knew that your family would abandon her when she left, and thought the necklace would grant her sanctuary with them and make them accept her into their clan.”</p><p>“Is–” Lena swallows. “Is she safe? Is she happy?”</p><p>Draco closes his eyes and tilts his head, then opens them again and meets her gaze with as much sympathy as he can muster up. “I’m sorry. I can’t See that far. The necklace is blocking me, now– I can’t tell what’s happened since she took it and left. I wish I could tell you more.”</p><p>Lena drops her hand back to her lap. “I...understand. Thank you, Mr Malfoy. This has...this has been weighing on many of us, but we’ve been forbidden to ask questions or look into it– all we knew was that she’d left, I don’t even think Uncle knows why she abandoned us. I will...we will have to discuss this revelation, to decide how to proceed. If she truly...loves someone from that family, we may have to reconsider our sworn stance on that family. If there’s something we can do to keep her from leaving us entirely…”</p><p>Potter clears his throat. “Lena, will you...do you think the Aurors will be requested, to retrieve Anna and the necklace?”</p><p>Lena glances up in shock, clearly having forgotten Potter was even in the room. “Oh...no. No, I think this is something we’ll need to handle ourselves. Perhaps we can talk Uncle into sending an emissary to them, to try and talk…” She trails off.</p><p>“...right,” Potter says, standing. “Well, I’m glad the Ministry was able to be of assistance in this matter. And…” he hesitates, then fumbles in his pocket and extracts a card, holding it out. “When you’ve reached a resolution, whichever way it goes, please reach out to me, personally. I’ll make sure the necklace gets registered, so in case it’s ever stolen with malicious intent in the future you’ll be able to track it down.”</p><p>Lena stares at him for a moment, then takes the card. “Thank you, Mr Potter. I do appreciate the gesture.” She nods towards him once, then directs a deep curtsy towards Draco. “Mr Malfoy, once again the Vargan clan finds itself in your family’s debt. If we can ever assist you, in any way, please do not hesitate to call upon us.”</p><p>Draco rises to his feet and nods to her. “I’m just happy to help. Potter and I can see ourselves out– I’m sure you’ve much to be set in motion.”</p><p>When they get back outside, Draco takes a deep breath. “You were right, Potter! That didn’t take long at all. Fancy a tipple at the pub before heading back to the Ministry–o<i>kay</i>, Potter, I get your point, there’s no need to <i>manhandle</i> me, Merlin…”</p>
<hr/><p>“...and then we went back to the Ministry to write down what happened, but we’d only gotten partway through the form when Potter was called away, some sort of grisly murder somewhere, I wasn’t really paying attention, it sounded rather grim…”</p><p>“<i>Vampires</i>!” Theo yelps, gesturing wildly, his glass in danger of spilling over. “Your <i>very first case</i> and they drag you straight to a vampire stronghold! And you– you– <i>you got away with pretending to be a Seer on a real case</i>?! Draco, I cannot <i>believe</i> you, you slippery little fuck. I can’t <i>believe</i> you’re getting away with it!"</p><p>Draco does his best to not look smug– well, no, that’s not true, he makes no effort at all to hide it. “Piece of piss, really. A few glances around the study and it would be obvious to anyone with eyes– Potter was, of course, no help, really he’s lucky I was there, I think I singlehandedly restored relations between the vampires and the Ministry this afternoon, Theo, I swear…”</p><p>“You’re an absolute wanker, you know? I can’t <i>believe</i> you!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. stop what you’re doing and only pay attention to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Draco knew he wasn’t doing a good job hiding his feelings, but he couldn’t help scowling down at the ground as Lucius led him across the ballroom floor. His grip on Draco’s shoulder was tight, almost to the point of painful, but Draco pretended he couldn’t feel anything.</i>
</p><p><i>Lucius nodded and smiled at a few people as they quickstepped across the floor, but as soon as they were outside the room he dropped the pleasant visage. “Draco, what in the </i>hell<i> is wrong with you tonight? I was trying to have a very important conversation with Ms Walton, and you were stood there sighing and shifting like some ill-bred Mudblood child! If I’m not able to smooth this over with them and they take a referral from someone else, I stand to lose <i>thousands</i> a year on the import fees! What do you have to say for yourself??”</i></p><p>
  <i>Draco petulantly kicked his foot along the ground and muttered something too quiet to be heard.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“What was that? Speak up, son.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I <i>said</i>,” Draco snapped, finally meeting Lucius’ gaze, “that you were <i>shaming Mother</i>, the way you were carrying on! Merlin, Father, Ms Walton is closer to <i>my</i> age than yours, and you were simpering over her while she was <i>giggling</i> at you! I couldn’t stand to see it!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lucius stared at Draco for a moment. Draco returned his gaze mulishly, even as he flushed. Finally, Lucius shook his head and chuckled. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Ah, son. Sometimes I forget how young you are.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I’m <i>fourteen</i>, Father, not a baby!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Quite right, Draco. You’re old enough, then, to understand that I would <i>never</i> dishonour your mother. Not ever. However...Ms Walton is the key to her father’s potions empire. The silly twit has Magnus’ ear, and one whisper of her feeling slighted by me, just a whisper of discontent, and he’ll no longer come to me for assistance in bringing some of his more <i>specialized</i> ingredients into the country. Not that he’d be gone for long, he’d come crawling back as soon as his shipment got raided the first time, but it’s much simpler to keep her happy, and keep everything running smoothly.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Oh. So you...you’re not...you wouldn’t…”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“No, Draco. I would <i>never</i>. But...there’s nothing wrong with flattering someone into thinking that you <i>might</i>. Never make any promises, never say anything untoward that someone could cause issues with if they overheard, but...appealing to someone like Ms Walton’s vanity can reap great rewards, sometimes. Never be afraid to let someone fall in love with you if it benefits you in some way. You’re not responsible for their feelings. Do you understand?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“...I think so, Father.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Alright. Now, go find Pansy and ask her to dance. I have it on good authority that you’ll need to practice your waltz for school this year.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“How do you...never mind.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Try to have fun the rest of the evening, Draco.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes, Father.”</i>
</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>Draco is– not bored, exactly, but he’s feeling slightly at loose ends these last few weeks. After the excitement of going into a <i>literal vampire stronghold</i>, his normal daily routine of waking up, enjoying a late lunch, and draping himself on various friends’ couches until they’re all ready to head out to whatever bar or club has earned their presence that evening no longer has the same shine to it.</p><p>He’s taken to Owling Potter at regular intervals, inquiring as to the status of Lena’s case and advising him of vague upcoming peril– “Potter, woke up this morning with a dire need to tell you– if you don’t get out of the office at a reasonable hour and head to a bar, you’re in danger of simply <i>having it fall off from disuse</i>. Think of your public, Potter!” (that one had gotten him a terse return owl saying only “Stop thinking about my cock, Malfoy”, which Pansy had cackled over for hours). As amusing as these little pastimes are, though, he finds himself almost hoping for a summons back to consult on something else.</p><p>Which is baffling, frankly. Why would he <i>want</i> to spend more time with Potter?</p><p>When the next letter comes, he’s out at a midweek liquid lunch with Blaise at Davy’s, holding court at one of the riverside tables and working their way through the white wine menu as befits a sunny summer London afternoon. Blaise had been at One Churchill for an investments check-in, and after such a trying morning it was only natural he’d need a diversion in the afternoon.</p><p>“Oh, bollocks,” Draco mutters, seeing the owl wing its way towards him. Birds aren’t exactly uncommon at Canary Wharf, but owls are more of a rarity, especially in the daytime, and people are already pointing. A twitch of his wand and everyone’s attention is diverted elsewhere as the bird drops a letter with that distinctive Ministry seal directly into his smoked salmon and horseradish crème fraîche. “Bloody Potter.”</p><p>Blaise peers interestedly over his wine glass at the parchment, one eye closed for better focus. “I say, is that a Ministry summons? I thought Theo was joking when he said you’d been contracted in by the Aurors. Does that mean you really <i>did</i> sleep with a vampire queen a month ago and she’s sending you precious gems every week in an attempt to court you?”</p><p>Draco rolls his eyes. “You should know better than to listen to Teddy when he’s in his cups, Blaise, really. I am not being courted by a vampire queen, I don’t think they even <i>have</i> queens. Look, this will just be some tedious update from Potter, I’m sure– just give me a moment.” He breaks the seal and holds the paper up, squinting in the sun.</p><p>
  <i>Malfoy,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Need you down at the Ministry as soon as you can get here–some wanky piece of art is getting delivered sometime in the next few days and we’ve intelligence it’s being targeted by a ring of black market art dealers we’ve been watching for a while. The buyers are out of the country and have hired some French expert appraiser to supervise the transport, but we don’t know him, and this is high-profile enough that Robards wants one of our own to double-check his notes. I tried to tell him you weren’t ‘one of our own’, but he didn’t listen to me.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I’m hoping that, as it’s near two in the afternoon, you’ve been awake long enough to get here without undue delay.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>-Senior Auror Potter</i>
</p><p>“Oh, thank you <i>very</i> much, Potter, strong objections duly noted,” Draco mutters, shoving the paper across the table for Blaise to read.</p><p>“Quite rude, isn’t he,” Blaise muses, folding the letter and handing it back over. “Not very befitting of Our Nation’s Hero, I’d say. Well, trot on, Draco, wouldn’t do to keep Herr Potter waiting– I’ll be sure to Owl you my notes on the remainder of the menu, and you can get the bill next week.”</p><p>“Cheers,” Draco mutters, tripping a bit as he makes his way down the walk before ducking into an alley to Apparate to the Ministry entrance. Good thing art appraisal is best done after a drink or five.</p>
<hr/><p>The bullpen is relatively quiet as Draco weaves his way through the desks, and Harry’s secretary waves him straight through the door. Draco can hear raised voices before he even pushes the door open.</p><p>“–just think this is overblowing the situation, Gawain, and we don’t– ah, Malfoy, so good of you to join us,” Potter snaps upon Draco’s entrance.</p><p>Draco raises an eyebrow and props himself up against the wall, gesturing languidly. “Don’t mind me, feel free to continue your domestic–you should know, though, that I could hear you from Mary’s desk.”</p><p>Potter flushes. “Noted. Look, Robards, I’ll read Malfoy in, if you really think we need him. Call me when the consultant gets here and we’ll come to yours.”</p><p>Robards nods curtly to Potter, slightly less abruptly to Draco, and exits, banging the door shut as he goes.</p><p>There’s silence for a moment as Potter angrily shuffles some papers about. Draco sighs, then pushes off the wall and meanders to the visitor’s chair.</p><p>“Well, that was a lovely scene. I’m assuming you asked me here for a reason, though, not just to stand here while you alphabetize your casework?”</p><p>Potter sneers at him. “Let’s make one thing clear, Malfoy– <i>I</i> did not ask you here. Gawain insisted you’d have something useful to contribute here, and–” Potter pauses and inhales. “Malfoy, are you <i>drunk</i>?”</p><p>“A bit, I’d imagine,” Draco answers cheerfully, propping his feet on the edge of Potter’s desk and tilting his chair back a bit. </p><p>Potter sputters. “Malfoy– you can’t– I mean, what were you thinking? You can’t come to work <i>drunk</i>!”</p><p>Draco shrugs. “Well, Potter, if you must know, your little note interrupted a quite productive lunch meeting with Blaise over at Davy’s– we’ve a goal to get through their full wine list, you see, and we were making excellent progress on the whites this afternoon– and I <i>did</i> come straight here as requested, so you’ll have to take me as I am, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Bloody hell, Malfoy, you do know it’s a Wednesday, yes?” Potter sighs.</p><p>Draco stares at him. “I do, Potter. Apologies, am I expected to pack myself away in mothballs until the Ministry calls? Is the expectation that this consultancy post is to dictate every aspect of my personal life, now?”</p><p>“Just...whatever, Malfoy, have a coffee or something, try and sober up before this consultant arrives, I won’t have you making us look foolish. Now, this painting is some massive Italian portrait getting imported in by the Greengrasses– you know them, don’t you?– well, the parents are on holiday right now and have paid for this so-called expert to come in and supervise its transport and installation. Problem is, he’s not exactly trained in security, so when we discovered that this portrait was a target and notified the Greengrasses, they petitioned Robards specifically for assistance. That’s where you come in– we’ll need you to verify the expert’s authentication, and Robards has asked you to–” Potter sighs “–<i>read</i> the workers responsible for the physical transport and anyone else involved, to confirm if they’re at all involved in this smuggler’s ring.”</p><p>Draco nods and flips through the proffered case file. Merlin, but this portrait is a monstrosity– exactly to Greengrass senior’s less-than-refined palette, but nothing he, personally, would spend any sort of money on. Draco cannot imagine the motivation behind purchasing a more-than-life-sized portrait of a deceased Pope in an apple orchard; no doubt the pontificating would bring the mood down of whatever room he’s stationed in, but there’s no accounting for taste, he supposes.</p><p>“It’s not likely it’s any of the hired muscle, Potter. Generally, when something this, ah– <i>specialized</i>– is a target, it’s someone with some sort of connection to it– someone who’s close to it, who really <i>cares</i> about it.”</p><p>Potter shrugs. “I can’t imagine anyone who would actually care about <i>that</i>, but I’ll keep it in mind.”</p><p>Draco snorts in agreement.</p><p>A memo zooms in as he’s wrapping up reviewing the provenance, and Potter stands. “Alright, he’s here. This is just an introduction, to let him know what to expect on the delivery day, make sure he understands why we have to be involved. <i>Don’t</i> cause a scene,” he instructs.</p><p>Draco flutters his eyelashes. “Certainly, Senior Auror Potter. I <i>live</i> to please,” he coos, noting with delight how pink he can turn Potter’s ears.</p><p>Robards’ door is open and he’s chatting animatedly with– oh, a <i>very</i> handsome man, all dark, wavy hair and bright white teeth and animated hand gestures. Draco notes the thick, somewhat gaudy watch on the man’s wrist, the tight fit of his shirt, and the shine to his pointed shoes with appreciation. The French certainly do know how to kit themselves out to best effect, he muses, allowing his gaze to run up and down the man’s thick thighs and broad shoulders.</p><p>Potter clears his throat and pushes between Draco and the man, who by this point has noticed Draco’s appraisal and is smiling back. “Senior Auror Potter,” he says brusquely, sticking his hand out.</p><p>“Ah! Harry Potter! A pleasure, a delight, an <i>honour</i>!” the man gushes, ignoring the hand and diving in for a cheek kiss. “I am Gilles Cambrioleur, of course. My friends, they will all be so jealous they did not take this job when I tell them of all the handsome men I met,” he adds, dropping an ostentatious wink towards Robards, who looks uncomfortably flattered. Draco hides a smile.</p><p>Gilles then steps around Potter and approaches Draco, his whole demeanour changing. “And is this the <i>Seer</i>?” he purrs, doing his own slow, <i>very</i> obvious appraisal of Draco’s body. “My, my. What is a specimen like you doing working in a government job? You should surely be installed in an art museum yourself, no?”</p><p>Draco smirks at Potter’s infuriated face over Gilles’ shoulder and accepts his kissed greeting. “The pleasure is <i>all</i> mine, Mr Cambrioleur.”</p><p>“Oh no, please, Gilles, I <i>insist</i>.”</p><p>“Right...Jill,” Potter mutters, before jumping slightly as Robards elbows him. “If you wouldn’t mind, we can just get straight to business? I’m sure you’re a busy man.”</p><p>“Oh, not at all! I am completely at your disposal, Mr Potter– please, direct me however it pleases you.”</p><p>Potter at this point is bright red. Draco thinks he likes Gilles Cambrioleur very much indeed.</p>
<hr/><p>Draco manages to escape the Ministry without Cambrioleur actually following him home, although it’s a near call. The man is handsome enough, to be sure, but something about him is a bit too much, even for Draco– he’s too enthusiastic, and while Draco appreciates flattery as much as the next man, something about him rings too false for Draco to really enjoy.</p><p>The bright spot in the afternoon had been how worked up Potter got. Every time Gilles fawned over Draco’s outfit, or his clearly informed knowledge of art, or thoughtful suggestions on how to modify the transport plan, Potter had grown more and more sullen. When Draco mentioned he was personally acquainted with the Greengrasses, Cambrioleur’s paroxysms of delight actually sent Potter to his feet and out of the room entirely, much to Draco’s amusement and Robards’ chagrin.</p><p>Despite all the theatrics, they had a plan for two days hence, when the portrait was to be Portkeyed over to the Ministry’s imports department and then brought over to the Greengrass’ summer manor, where it would be installed. Draco still isn’t sure why anyone would want to steal <i>this</i> particular work, but Cambrioleur certainly spoke of it with enough respect to prove it had, at the very least, a long history to make it a worthwhile piece for a collector.</p><p>On the morning of the transfer, Draco is the last to arrive, but he still gets there before the Portkey is scheduled to arrive, so he thinks Potter’s glare is entirely unwarranted. He does appreciate the coffee that Gilles hands him with a broad smile, though.</p><p>The painting arrives at the Ministry without incident. It’s inspected over by the imports team, who tag it and register its arrival and appraised value. Gilles flutters around the portrait, exclaiming over its many (supposed) virtues, and Draco follows with much more restraint, noting aloud for the Aurors all the features that mark it as having transported over sans issue, and verifying its authenticity.</p><p>Draco, Potter, and Robards Apparate over to the manor home first, where they meet with the install team and Draco stares intently at each one to <i>scan for ill intent</i>, while Potter rolls his eyes in the background. None of them are going to be involved, Draco can already tell, but he puts on the show Robards expects anyway. They then wait for Gilles’ arrival with the painting and transport team.</p><p>And wait.</p><p>And wait.</p><p>Ten minutes past the scheduled arrival, Robards mutters something to himself and pops over to the Ministry. He’s back almost instantly, fuming and furious.</p><p>“They’re gone. Fuckers left at the scheduled time, <i>fucking</i> Cambrioleur was fussing about the draping of the wraps or some shit, got everyone there all in an uproar, nobody noticed that the Ministry Portkey was <i>dropped</i>–” he brandishes a scuffed cricket bat, “and they used something else! They were gone before anyone noticed anything was wrong!” He whirls and advances on Draco. “Malfoy! You spent all afternoon with him the other day– he was all over you! <i>How</i> did you not pick up on this??”</p><p>Potter folds his arms and glares. “Right, Malfoy. Why couldn’t you <i>read</i> this on him?” His voice is venomous.</p><p>Draco takes a step back and puts up his hands, mind whirling. “Hey, now. Potter, I <i>think</i> you’ll find I mentioned this as a possibility when you first brought me in on this! Didn’t I tell you– it’s always the person who’s closest to the artefact, the person who cares the most about it! <i>You</i> were the one who was convinced it would be one of the other workers involved! Tell me, did either of you even <i>think</i> of vetting Cambrioleur, or did you let him waltz into your offices and go over the whole plan without even a background check?? Must I do everything myself? Visions aren’t <i>perfect</i>, you know– it’s hardly <i>my</i> problem that nobody heeded my warning when I gave it!”</p><p>Robards growls, tugs at his hair, and turns on his heel, presumably headed back to the Ministry. Draco’s left with Potter, who’s still staring him down and breathing heavily.</p><p>“I <i>knew</i> something was wrong with him,” Potter mutters, abruptly stepping back and making an effort to calm himself. “Slimy git, coming in here and smarming all over everyone in sight—”</p><p>“Not <i>quite</i> everyone in sight, though,” Draco can’t help but interject, stung. “Don’t tell me you <i>actually</i> suspected him the first day– you were too busy glaring at him every time he even glanced my direction to pay attention to anything he was saying! What, were you jealous that someone besides you was getting attention for once? Or is it that it was <i>me</i> he was paying attention to– oh, the French thief is chatting up <i>Malfoy</i>, they must be in cahoots? That’s it, isn’t it, Potter?”</p><p>“What?” Potter sounds taken aback. “No, that’s not– I wasn’t jealous of– Merlin, Malfoy, that’s not it at all–”</p><p>“Whatever, Potter,” Draco snaps. “If you want to accuse me of something, you can send an owl summoning me back. I’m going home.”</p><p>“Malfoy, wait–” But Draco is already gone.</p>
<hr/><p>Later that night, he gets a note from Potter.</p><p>
  <i>Malfoy,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I have no idea what happened this afternoon, but I truly, genuinely, want to reassure you that at no point did I consider that you were in any way involved in this, and I’m so sorry if I gave you that impression.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Cambrioleur, inexplicably, turned out to be his real name– you speak French, don’t you, I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of that– we’ve no idea where he’s gone to. He somehow got a note to my office, apologizing profusely for deceiving us and specifically asking that we convey his regret to you that you two couldn’t spend more time together. He also included– you won’t believe it– a notarized appraisal of authenticity, as well as a signed confession that he stole the portrait, to be provided to the Greengrasses for an insurance claim.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I’ve never met a criminal quite like him before.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Again, Malfoy, please accept my apologies for the misunderstanding this afternoon. I’ve noted down your initial impression of the most likely culprit from our initial briefing and passed it along to Johnson for his file.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>See you soon,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>-Potter</i>
</p><p>Draco stares at the note for a long time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. the plot, unlike your hair, continues to thicken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Lucius Malfoy was in prison.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco spent the summer floating around his family home, sticking to the shadows and secret passageways the Death Eaters, more and more of whom arrived each day, didn’t know about. His father was in prison and his mother refused to leave their rooms, and the East Wing was slowly being filled up by old ‘friends’. Greg and Vince were there, at least, with their fathers, so he had someone to talk to when he showed his face.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lucius Malfoy was in prison.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco hid, and watched, and learned which Death Eaters to stay away from at all costs, and which ones still had enough respect for his family name and wealth that they’d leave him alone on their own. He stayed in his room with the doors warded shut on the full moons. He made sure his mother was at least sent food, even if he was certain she ate none of it. He counted down the days until this fragile peace ended and the Dark Lord returned.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lucius Malfoy was in prison, and Draco would be expected to take the Mark before school began again.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>There would be no advice this summer.</i>
</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>“Potter!” Draco shouts, storming through the bullpen directly to Potter’s office. It’s 11PM on a Friday night, Draco is in his tightest jeans and thinnest shirt, and he is <i>furious</i>.</p><p>“Ah, Malfoy. I thought those were your dulcet tones out there. How are you this evening?” Potter asks blandly from behind his desk when Draco barges in, pushing past Johnson who was on his way out.</p><p>“How am I? How <i>am</i> I?? How am I, he asks. Potter! I will have you know that I was doing <i>just fine</i> this evening until your bloody great Patronus barged into the back room at the Unicorn and interrupted a lovely blowie from a lovely chap, demanding that I report to your office <i>immediately</i> like I’m some sort of errant schoolboy! I’m lucky he didn’t <i>bite it off</i>, Potter,” Draco growls. </p><p>Potter at least has the decency to look abashed. “Err, wow. Sorry, Malfoy, I honestly...didn't think that would be a concern, I just needed you here ASAP. Really, my apologies for the, err...interruption. The Unicorn, eh? Wow, I haven’t been there in ages, always thought it was a bit too much of a meat market, you know, but I guess I shouldn’t have assumed you were home alone, even if I wanted...well! Anyway.” Potter clears his throat and pulls his glasses off to briskly clean them on his shirt. “There’s been a death, Malfoy, and Robards specifically requested you be brought in on this one.”</p><p>Draco blinks at him, stymied for a moment. “I...You’ve been to the...I didn’t...well. Yes, Potter, unlike you, I <i>do</i> have a social life, but I suppose all that must be put aside when duty calls. A death? And Robards asked for <i>me</i>?”</p><p>Potter nods, snapping back to professionalism. “I actually suggested it– don’t look so shocked– a patient at St Mungo’s has died, signs are pointing to tampering with some of the medication he was on, we don’t have details yet, but as it could be Potions-related I thought you might be of some use with a talent you <i>actually</i> possess for once.”</p><p>Draco chooses to ignore the dig and puts a hand out imperiously for the file. “Let me read through what you’ve got so far, Potter. Have samples been brought over yet? A magical reading done for interacting spells?”</p><p>Potter does not relinquish the folder in his hand. “Bad luck there, Malfoy– the body’s still at Mungo’s. You’re coming along to help gather the evidence.”</p><p>“The...surely, you can’t be serious, Potter.” Draco is aghast.</p><p>“Sorry, Malfoy. You’re gonna have to get your hands dirty for this one.” Potter looks far too delighted.</p>
<hr/><p>Mungo’s is, as Draco expected, perfectly horrid on every level. It smells of disinfecting spells, the fluorescent lights are hideous for his colouring, and he’s dressed like a total tart, which has garnered him plenty of looks, ranging from appreciative to deeply judgemental. Potter had refused to give him time to go home to change, and now was alternating between laughing at Draco behind his hand and giving his rear end pensive looks when he thought Draco wasn’t looking.</p><p>All in all, the experience was highly unsettling, and Draco wanted to <i>leave</i>, as quickly as possible.</p><p>Gathering samples had been dreadful as expected, but at least Potter had taken pity and not made him actually <i>touch</i> the body– he’d focused on taking endless magical readings instead, scanning for curses, abnormalities, and any spells that, accidental or not, may have interfered with the nerve regrowth potion the patient had been taking.</p><p>The hospital’s entire supply of the potion was already confiscated and sent back to the Ministry, and Draco is itching to get his hands on a vial for analysis– a complete lack of anything magical and no immediate physical indicators of poison or any other outside interference has planted an idea in his mind.</p><p>Finally, Potter comes to pick him up from the patient’s room, where he’d been ostensibly looking for clues, and brings him back to the Ministry.</p><p>“I’ll take you down to the labs shortly, Malfoy, but first, Robards wanted to <i>make sure</i> I asked you,” Harry rolls his eyes, “did you get any <i>visions</i> or <i>premonitions</i> from Abbot’s room while you were in there?”</p><p>“Of course not, Potter. Everyone knows that a Seer’s visions are triggered by the physical presence of someone involved in the prophecy,” Draco says loftily, waving his hand over his head. “As Mr Abbot is, er...no longer <i>with us</i>, I was able to glean nothing useful.”</p><p>“Oh, of course, <i>everyone</i> knows that,” Harry grumbles, marching them to the Auror analysis lab on the other end of the department. To Draco’s dismay, he follows him in and takes over a table across from where the samples have been deposited.</p><p>“You’re staying?”</p><p>“I’ve paperwork to get through, may as well do it here– fewer people will come looking for me and interrupt if I’m not in my office, and this way, if you figure anything out, you don’t have to interrupt your work to fetch me.”</p><p>Blast, that actually makes sense, too. Draco sighs to himself and sets to work.</p><p>A few hours later, and he’s gratified to have proven his theory mostly right– but he’s also incredibly confused.</p><p>The Aurors, he’s gathered over the course of the night, have mostly been focusing on the idea that this was somehow foul play– that some external intervention had caused Abbot to expire. Draco, however, was 97% certain now that the cause was the nerve regrowth potion he’d been on.</p><p>It was odd, though– he’d been on some form of nerve regrowth solution for years and never had any issues, but the hospital had switched suppliers a few months ago and Abbot had taken a turn for the worse at almost the exact same time.</p><p>Draco’s analysis revealed a few somewhat-unorthodox substitutions, but nothing that would come anywhere <i>near</i> to causing the side effects Abbot had suffered before his heart gave out. However, considering the magical signatures had revealed nothing, and all the biologic samples from Abbot had been equally clean, the only remaining option was this potion.</p><p>Sighing, Draco straightens and bends backwards to stretch, groaning in appreciation when his back pops. A small noise brings his attention over to Potter, who appears to have dropped his pen and is now scrabbling for it on the floor. Draco snickers.</p><p>“Shut up, Malfoy. Have you found anything? It’s three in the morning and I’d like to get home and get to sleep before my entire Saturday is shot.” Harry’s face is red when he reappears over the table.</p><p>“Yes, can’t let your big plans of <i>nothing</i> get ruined because you’re tired,” Draco says under his breath. “I think I found something, or, rather...it’s what I haven’t found that’s more interesting,” he continues quickly in a normal tone, before Potter can interrupt.</p><p>“What are you talking about? Honestly, Malfoy, I’m not in the mood for word games with you, just tell me what you’ve discovered.” Potter <i>does</i> sound tired, and Draco takes pity– he, himself, hadn’t woken up until 5PM today and thus was still relatively refreshed, but Potter had likely been at work all day, then got called back in for this death.</p><p>“Keep your knickers on, Potter, I’m getting there. By all accounts, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this variant of nerve regrowth. There are a few unusual ingredients, but nothing so out of the ordinary to cause concern. However, Mungo’s switched suppliers for this particular potion, and two weeks later Abbot goes into such sharp decline? It <i>has</i> to be this. Now, we can test for a lot of things here, including corrupted or tampered components, but what we <i>cannot</i> test for is if any of the ingredients have gone off.”</p><p>“Like...expired? Could that really do it?”</p><p>“Certainly, and what’s worse is it wouldn’t show up in an analysis– the ingredients would combine to the same end result, and nothing would look out of the ordinary after the final product was bottled. There are a few ingredients in here– the Jobberknoll feathers, for one– that wouldn’t appear to have gone off upon receipt, so it’s entirely possible it’s one of those, and this manufacturer doesn’t know they’re using shoddy product. Who did Mungo’s switch to? I know they’ve worked with Walton’s for generations.”</p><p>“Ahh…” Harry shuffles his papers a bit. “Here it is. A newer company, actually, that undercut Walton’s just enough on its nerve regrowth modification to convince Mungo’s to make the switch– Haynes Tinctures? Have you heard of them?”</p><p>Merlin, Potter <i>must</i> be tired if he was actually asking Draco to contribute to the putting-together-clues portion. “No, I haven’t, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything– the traditional ways aren’t always the best, and if this company can produce a better product, it’s good that Mungo’s switched. I wonder if there’s an issue with the supplier?” Draco muses.</p><p>Harry rubs his eyes and nods. “Great. Thank you, Malfoy, and– sorry, again, for ruining your night. You can head home now, I’ll let you know if we need you to come back in. I think we’ll start on Monday with Haynes’ suppliers, check if any of them have dodgy import sources or are passing off poor-quality product to save money.” Harry gathers his paperwork together and snags a vial of the regrowth potion, tapping the inventory list to mark it as checked out to him. “Just in case there ends up being something we can end up testing for over the weekend so we don’t need to bother you,” he explains at Draco’s questioning sound.</p><p>Draco nods, waves his wand to seal his work in a stasis charm, stretches once more (clocks Potter’s gaze on his exposed midriff, interesting), and takes his leave.</p>
<hr/><p>“So, let me get this straight– you’re now, voluntarily, planning on doing extra work– again, voluntarily– to help Potter and the Aurors? On a weekend? And you want my help?” Theo looks unconvinced, which Draco has to admit is fair.</p><p>He’d gone home from Mungo’s and immediately fallen asleep until noon, waking just in time to meet Theo for their standing Saturday lunch at Holly &amp; Phoenix– dreadful name, dreadful implications, but excellent sandwiches, so Draco suffered in silence– and update him on the most recent case.</p><p>“Look, Theo– the department’s run ragged. I know for a fact that Potter’s personally in charge of three murders, and now an investigation into an entire potions supplier– and what’s worse, I think he’s got the wrong angle, but I’ve got no proof. I need to dig something up, confirm my suspicions, and then have a big public vision and make them investigate the <i>right</i> lead.” Draco nods in satisfaction, then tucks into his turkey, cheddar, and green apple toasted sandwich with relish.</p><p>He’s halfway through it before he realizes Theo is staring at him. “What?” he asks irritably, swiping one of Theo’s chips and dragging it through his extra whole-grain mustard.</p><p>Theo shakes his head, returning to his soup. “You just sounded awfully worried about Potter, is all. What’s going on there?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Draco yelps, glancing around to make sure nobody’s listening. “Nothing’s <i>going on there</i>, honestly Theo, I can’t believe you’d even <i>suggest</i>–”</p><p>“Yes,” Theo interrupts, deadpan. “It’s incredibly out of the realm of possibility for you to fancy Potter a bit. I <i>did</i> live with you for six and a half years, you know.”</p><p>Draco flushes. “No– it’s just– well, last night I mentioned his summons had interrupted an assignation at the Unicorn, and he made some comment about how he doesn’t go there…<i>anymore</i>.” He raises his eyebrows significantly.</p><p>“He never!” Theo says, eyes wide. “Surely we’d have heard if Potter was queer? If someone one of us slept with had slept with someone who slept with him? How do we not know this? Are you sure?” He looks truly offended at being left out of the loop.</p><p>Draco nods. “I know! I almost couldn’t believe it, but he definitely– well, I’ll admit, I said a few things mostly for shock value, and he looked...disappointed? I don’t know. But he definitely said he stopped going because it was too much of a meat market. It was surreal.”</p><p>Theo frowns. “Disappointed? Odd. What, was he expecting that you’d be home alone on a Friday night? Maybe that’s why we’ve never seen him out– Potter’s married to his job, when would he have time to go on the pull? Maybe he was just jealous that you almost got laid and an interrupted blowjob is still closer than he’s gotten in months.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Draco says doubtfully, remembering Potter’s <i>looks</i> throughout the rest of the night. “Anyway! Back to this case. I’ve got a really good idea and there’s no way it can go wrong.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Draco, <i>there is absolutely no way this is going to go right</i>,” Theo hisses at him from the next chair over in the Haynes Tinctures waiting room.</p><p>“Relax,” Draco admonishes, patting his knee. “<i>Some</i> nerves are to be expected for a job interview, but you look ready to hit the ceiling. Do try to calm down.”</p><p>Theo looks ready to burst, but just then the receptionist returns, a well-dressed man trailing her.</p><p>Well– he appeared well-dressed, until you noticed that the cut of the suit was terribly old-fashioned, and his shoes were from two seasons ago, which Draco is aware that most people wouldn’t.</p><p>Theo had, though, if the wrinkle in his nose was anything to go by. Draco elbows him.</p><p>“Gentlemen!” booms the man, striding over. “Good afternoon. Ellen told me we had a couple of job-seekers out front– I have to say, good show of dedication, coming in on a Sunday! I applaud the initiative. I’m Colton Haynes, and welcome to our little operation!”</p><p>Draco leaps to his feet and sticks out an enthusiastic hand. “Mr Haynes, an honour. I’m a <i>huge</i> fan of yours– that piece you had in <i>Potions Quarterly</i>’s winter edition, about the direct-binding properties of moonstone, eliminating the need for a rest period? Groundbreaking. My name is Cygnus Rosier, and this is my associate, Drooble Honeyduke–” Theo makes a strangled sound, but Draco ignores it, “–and when we heard that you’d negotiated that deal with Mungo’s, well, we knew we had to come down and see if there was any way to be involved. You’re going to change the healing potions world, sir!” It isn’t in Draco’s nature to brown-nose quite this heavily (at least not since childhood), but he manages to keep the grin plastered on and his voice just on the right side of too-enthusiastic.</p><p>“Very good, Mr Rosier, Mr– Honeyduke? Pleasure to meet you both! I did glance over your CVs before I came out– <i>very</i> impressive credentials, Cygnus– so I was hoping you boys wouldn’t mind taking a quick tour of the facilities while we chat, just to give you an idea of what we’re working with here.”</p><p>“Perfect!”</p><p>Haynes turns and leads them through the door behind the reception desk. Theo hangs on Draco’s elbow until they’re a few steps behind, then kicks him in the shin and hisses, “<i>Drooble Honeyduke</i>?? Are you mad?? I sound like a man made of candy floss!”</p><p>“I was <i>hungry</i>, ok, I improvised! At least it shouldn’t be hard for you to remember!” Draco hisses back, stepping on Theo’s foot before hurrying to catch up with Haynes.<br/>
<br/>
The tour is dull and Haynes is a blowhard. Draco can’t help but notice that they’re staying far away from the labs, and that they’ve run into very few employees– granted, it’s a Sunday, but for a small start-up business like this, he expected all hands on deck.</p><p>“Theo,” he mutters, nodding along as Haynes drones on about his plans for an endurance-enhancer. “I need you to distract him when we’re near the labs so I can slip in and see what’s going on. I’m pretty sure he’s keeping us away from there on purpose, don’t you think?”</p><p>“I agree, but Draco, how am I going to do that?”</p><p>“I don’t know! Ask him about his time in the Quidditch minors, Merlin knows he’s hinted at it enough—look, that door has a hazard sign on it, that must be it! Say, Mr Haynes,” Draco continues in a louder voice. “Drooble here was just whispering to me that he was <i>dying</i> to know more about your time as Keeper with the Anteaters– won’t you tell him what it was like? I’m just going to nip off to the gents, let you two lads bond a bit, I was never one for sport at college–”</p><p>As Haynes immediately begins to expound upon his time on Appleby’s farm team and Theo shoots him a death glare, Draco slips back and through the door marked with the hazard symbol.</p><p>He was right– this is the laboratory. And <i>this</i> is where all the employees are– the place is positively humming. Draco’s almost smashed into by a woman carrying a box of clean vials; only a neat sidestep saves the fragile glass. “So sorry!” he says with what he hopes is an ingratiating smile. “Hello there, my name is Cyg–”</p><p>“Move,” she interrupts, shouldering past him and continuing on. </p><p>“I say! How rude,” Draco mutters, peering around.</p><p>Something about this lab is...off. Draco can’t see any anti-contamination barriers, nor are the boxes of ingredients at each workstation held in stasis before they’re ready to be used. Only about half the cauldrons appear to be regulation, and some even look like they’ve been <i>patched</i>.</p><p>He spots what must be the ingredients storeroom just down the way from where he’s standing, and slowly starts to move that direction, trying to look casual. It doesn’t matter– not a single person who passes him acknowledges him in any way, as long as he stays out of their direct path. “Very odd,” he mutters, slipping into the storeroom just as someone else exits.<br/>
<br/>
When he exits the lab and hurries to catch up with Theo and Haynes, his mind is whirling. Luckily, Haynes is still blathering on about the records he almost set during his time on the team and hasn’t noticed how long Draco was gone.</p><p>“We need to get out of here, soon,” he breathes into Theo’s ear. “I know what’s going on, and I need to get to the Ministry right away.”</p><p>Theo nods shortly. “Mr Haynes!” he cries, suddenly bending down and clutching his shin. “Oh, Mr Haynes, I’m so sorry, but I seem to have...broken my tibia! Oh, Cygnus, it hurts, it hurts, you need to get me to my Mediwizard!”</p><p>Haynes blinks. “Broke your– but we were just standing here!”</p><p>Draco loops one of Theo’s arms over his shoulder and slowly starts helping him hop back down the hall. “Ah, yes, poor Drooble here suffers from brittle bone syndrome– quite a severe case– sometimes even just standing still is enough pressure to snap him to pieces! His bones are quite deteriorated, sir, they’re like Swiss cheese. So sorry to cut this short, delightful tour, we’ll contact you to rearrange this, thank you!”</p><p>As soon as they hit the lobby, Draco Apparates them to the Ministry.</p>
<hr/><p>“Ok– want to tell me what you found? Do you have a plan for why I’m here before we storm into Potter’s office?” Theo demands after they’ve made it past the Welcome Witch and checked into the visitor’s log– <i>Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, saving your arse AGAIN, Potter</i>.</p><p>“Theo...every single ingredient in their storeroom was rotten. Every single one. It <i>reeked</i> in there– everything that can be visibly off, was, and I’m willing to bet that the Jobberknoll feathers have gone bad as well, just you can’t tell unless you test them. I don’t know what the fuck is going on over there, but Potter’s convinced it’s the suppliers– it can’t be, no potioneer worth their salt would work with components like that. And that’s another thing– all the workers, it’s almost like they didn’t even see that I was there, unless I literally ran into them. Something is very wrong at Haynes Tinctures, and the Aurors are going about it all wrong.”</p><p>Theo nods. “Alright. You’re right, it’s a good thing we went. Now– let me carry you down to Potter’s office, I’ll tell him we were at lunch and you had a fit and I hauled you here right away, does that work?”</p><p>“Perfect, Theo– you’re a visionary.” Draco collapses against Theo’s body and they begin to stumble towards the lifts, causing quite a stir as Theo snaps stinging hexes at anyone who doesn’t jump out of the way.</p><p>By the time they hit the bullpen, Potter is out waiting for them, arms crossed, jaw set. “Malfoy. How <i>lovely</i> to see you again so soon. And...Nott? What the hell is going on here?”</p><p>“Oh, Potter, thank god you’re in today, I was so afraid you wouldn’t be,” Theo gushes without a trace of irony. Draco is impressed. “Draco was at mine for lunch and he just collapsed! He was having a fit, he kept shouting about components and anteaters and– well, I figured I should bring him in right away! You know how he gets, you know, with his <i>visions</i>–” here Theo’d dropped his voice to a stage whisper, which did nothing to hide what he was saying from any of the eavesdroppers, “I don’t know what you’re working on right now, but I’m sure it’s important!”</p><p>Potter’s eye roll is prodigious. “God. Jesus. Ok, fine. Fine! Let’s go into my office, and you can tell me what triggered this...remarkably dramatic vision of yours, Malfoy.”</p><p>Draco nods his head weakly, closes his eyes, and plasters himself even further to Theo’s side, which earns him a pinch in a <i>very</i> tender spot.</p><p>By the time Theo’s deposited Draco onto a chair, Robards has been summoned, and is sitting on Potter’s desk. Potter’s still standing, arms still crossed, looking incredibly unhappy.</p><p>Draco keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, then opens them, springing to his feet. “Apple pie! Anteaters! Jabberwocky! No– no, Jobberknoll! Sulphur! Rotten...eggs? Rotten ingredients!” He whirls and points at Potter. “Potter! The issue isn’t with the suppliers– Haynes is knowingly purchasing components that are out of date to save money, and using them to make his potions. He’s selling them at enough of a discount to guarantee he’ll win accounts, but he’s still making a huge profit– he’s skimming from the top!”</p><p>Potter stares at him for a moment, then moves around his desk and sinks into his chair. “Shit. Shit, that fits, doesn’t it?” He looks incredibly annoyed. “The potions themselves look fine because you can’t test for freshness once it’s been made, but everything being bad would explain how quickly Abbot declined. But– what sort of reputable potioneers would work somewhere that used rotten stock?”</p><p>Draco shrugs. “I’m sure I don’t know <i>that</i>, Potter. Perhaps they’ve been ensorcelled.”</p><p>“Ensorc– what century are you from? God. Ok. Gawain, do you think–”</p><p>Robards nods crisply and stands. “I’ll put in the call to bring the rest of the teams in. Potter, you take point– get Colton Haynes talking if you can. Once we’ve got a warrant I’ll send in the secondary to raid the lab.”</p><p>Harry nods. “Works for me. Malfoy– just–” he passes his hand over his face. “Just go home for now. I’ll let you know if this pans out.”</p>
<hr/><p>Two hours later, and Draco is pacing in front of his fireplace, wringing his hands. Surely this is taking far longer than it should?</p><p>Just then, his fire whooshes green, and Potter’s head appears. “Hey, Malfoy. I just got done with the debrief– alright if I come through?”</p><p>“Uh,” Draco stutters. “Yes, certainly, just– yes, come on through, Potter.” He steps back, and moments later, Harry Potter is in his study.</p><p>Potter brushes himself off and looks around. “Nice place. Got any alcohol in here?”</p><p>“Yes– Blinky!” She appears with a pop. “Blinky, can you please bring up some of the cab sauv I brought home from Blaise’s last wedding? Two bottles, please– thank you very much.” She nods and reappears momentarily with a tray, one bottle already opened and decanting. Setting it on the table between the couches, she drops into a curtsy and disappears again.</p><p>Potter collapses onto the nearest couch with a groan. “Merlin, what a clusterfuck. Pour us a heavy one, will you?”</p><p>“Of course,” Draco murmurs, filling up the glasses on autopilot and sitting on the opposite couch.</p><p>Potter takes a deep swallow and sighs. “Well. You were right about the ingredients, but wrong about where the extra money was going. He’s not skimming it for himself– the minute we showed up in force he broke down and told us everything, we barely even needed the warrant. He’s gotten caught up in some group, run by a man named Parsons, and he’s been funneling the extra money to him. We think–” Potter sighs again and slumps into the couch, emptying the glass. “We think Parsons is tied up in all these murders I’ve been investigating, the crime scenes I don’t take you to. There was always some sort of strange magical signature, it was dismissed but I knew– I <i>knew</i> it wasn’t a coincidence, and as soon as we saw all those lab workers, I could prove it.”</p><p>“Prove– what? What do you mean?” Malfoy leans forward and refills Potter’s glass.</p><p>“Cheers. I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but– all those workers, Haynes had them under a sort of modified Imperius curse. It leaves a lot more free will and is almost impossible to notice– and the magical trace is completely different, it just leaves a sort of aura in its wake, the same thing I’ve noticed at all these homicides. Haynes said he doesn’t know anything about it, just the incantation is <i>Angario</i> and he has to personally give anyone under it instructions, he can’t whisper it into their minds like you do with <i>Imperio</i>– Parsons developed it, has been using it for months. He’s building some sort of compound, bringing more and more people into the fold with him, having a select few curse as many people as possible and making them run errands for him– robbery, extortion, even murder. Haynes doesn’t know anything about his motives, just kept talking about how Parsons promised him money, status, a spot on the Arrows—he really broke down the second we pushed him even a little bit.”</p><p>Draco is– stunned. “Are you– Potter, this is a <i>whole entire crime ring</i>. This is– this is Death Eater stuff. Are you sure that’s what’s going on?”</p><p>Potter nods, face drawn. “Unfortunately.” They both drink quietly for a while, watching the fire and occasionally refilling their glasses.</p><p>They’re halfway through the second bottle before Potter speaks again. “There’s more bad news. Haynes indicated that Parsons is somehow aware that you’ve been helping the Aurors, and that it’s you who pinned down the culprits of the first couple of robberies. Well, he didn’t indicate <i>you</i> exactly– he just said that Parsons knows that the Auror department is getting help from a Seer, and <i>Parsons</i> knows who it is, but nobody else does. You’re in danger, Malfoy. We’re going to have to assign you a protective detail, and put your flat under Fidelius. I’m afraid you can’t leave until we’ve got this wrapped up.”</p><p>“Right,” Draco says shakily. “Right. Perfectly logical, Potter. I suppose this is what I get for trying to do some good, isn’t it? I should have never written your department, I should have just– carried on, let you lot figure it all out on your own. Merlin, I can’t believe this! All my life I skate through and get by, no problems, and the minute I actually try and <i>do the right thing</i>, my life is in danger!”</p><p>Potter winces and tops him off. “Yeah, it’s shit isn’t it.”</p><p>They lapse into silence again until the bottle is empty, then Potter drags himself to his feet. “Look– I’m not up to a Fidelius tonight, and we need to vet who’s going to be your Secret-Keeper first, anyway. D’you have a guest room? I’ll ward us in tight and sleep here tonight– you’ll be safe.”</p><p>Draco huffs, standing as well. “Of course I’ve a <i>guest room</i>, Potter, what do you take me for? I’ll have you know I have <i>three</i> guest rooms, and just for your cheek I’m going to put you in the smallest one, where the bathroom’s across the hall instead of an en suite. Blinky! Please prepare the blue room for Mr Potter, he’ll be staying tonight.”</p><p>“Merlin, Malfoy, only you. Listen, why don’t you just go to bed– you’ve had a shock. I’ll ward the place before I fall asleep, and we’ll get the Fidelius set in the morning. You’ll be fine, you’ll see– we’ll catch him soon enough.”</p><p>Draco pauses, looking back at Potter before he heads towards his bedroom. Potter’s watching him, eyes soft and worried. Something in Draco’s chest lurches. “I know, Potter,” he says quietly. “I trust you.” Before he can properly see Potter’s reaction, he hurries off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. a clear vision on a cloudy day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <i>Ever since Draco had lost his wand, he’d been sleeping in his bathroom. It was the only door in his suite that had a manual lock, pre-spelled to only open again to him or his parents’ touch. He didn’t feel safe in his bed with an unlocked door, considering who was given free range throughout the Manor these days.</i>
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  <i>He’d done his best to make it comfortable– hauled in his spare blankets to line the soaking tub, placed pillows along the edge (finally seeing a use for all the throw pillows his mother insisted on decorating with), curling up under his duvet– but he still woke every day with cramps all over his body, having barely slept a wink.</i>
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  <i>It was better than the alternative, though, so each morning he hauled himself out of the bath and out into his bedroom, trying not to think about the days the room stank of dog and there were long black hairs left in his bed.</i>
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  <i>This morning, though, when he staggered into his bedroom, Lucius was standing next to his bed, staring at the messed-up sheets and scattered dog hairs.</i>
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  <i>“Father?” Draco’s voice was hoarse– he wasn’t sure when he’d spoken last. “Father, what are you doing here? Is Mother alright?”</i>
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  <i>Lucius glanced up, and Draco tried to hide a wince– his father looked even worse than he did. “What? She’s fine. I’m fine. Draco– were you sleeping in the bathroom? Nevermind– there’s no time. Listen, Draco. I fear...I have made mistakes, throughout my life, but I need you to know that it was always, always because I thought I was doing what was best for our family, for our world. You know that, right?”</i>
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  <i>Draco stared at his feet and thought about the last three years. Thought about his father’s constant, unyielding presence, his quiet pride when Draco parroted his views. Thought about the lessons in how to manipulate, the meetings he sat in, being taught to observe and remember every detail that might be twisted to his own use in the future. Thought about the Dark Lord stalking through his family’s home, humiliating his father, allowing his pet wolf free rein, even into Draco’s bedroom.</i>
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  <i>“Draco?”</i>
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  <i>Draco looked up and met Lucius’ eyes. “Yes, Father.”</i>
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<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>Draco is alarmed to find himself looking forward to Ministry owls in the days and weeks that follow.</p><p>The morning after Potter slept over had been surprisingly comfortable, although that may have been due to their near-silence over breakfast. Draco’d had no appetite, but forced down some toast and tea when Potter looked at him significantly and shoved the platter his direction.</p><p>Potter had rushed Theo’s background check to approve him as Draco’s Secret-Keeper, and performed the ritual himself. Theo, bless him, had offered to swear an Unbreakable to only tell people Draco and Potter both approved of, but Potter had said quietly that Draco’s trust was sufficient and left them to themselves.</p><p>Draco thinks he spent most of that afternoon frozen with Theo’s arms around him.</p><p>Ever since then, though, Draco’s been growing more and more restless. He told Potter he wouldn’t leave his flat unless it was an absolute emergency, but he’s going stir-crazy with nothing to do but re-read all his books and worry.</p><p>Potter had promised to keep him updated, and true to his word sends him an owl each afternoon– most of which say <i>No updates yet, sit tight, do you need anything?</i> or some variation. Draco can’t bring himself to respond with more than an <i>All fine here</i> when he sends the bird winging back to Potter’s home.</p><p>No news, in this case, is definitely <i>not</i> good news.</p><p>Some of Potter’s letters are longer– ones he’s clearly written after a drink or two, divulging more information about what’s going on.</p><p>Trent Parsons, apparently, has been quietly gathering a cult-like following around him for the last eight months. They’re stationed out in some remote location that he’s essentially built a small village in, all the way down to the infrastructure, and with this horrible, terrifying variant on <i>Imperio</i> he’s been threading tendrils of influence throughout wizarding society. The Aurors are taking a crash course on how to identify the aura that Potter’d been noticing at all the other crime scenes, and the Unspeakables are working to unravel the combination of Repelling Charms and Fidelius that Trent has implemented to keep the location of his base of operations hidden and secret. Everyone they've brought in from the Potions lab who had the spell cast on them is still in St Mungo's—the Healers are baffled and can't figure out how to lift the curse, or reverse the effects, even though Haynes claims to have cancelled as soon as he was brought in.</p><p>Haynes has been talking, a <i>lot</i>. He was brought in by promises of a return to his former glory and regretted it almost instantly, but by then it was too late– Parsons had him firmly under his thumb. Haynes felt like he didn’t have a choice.</p><p>Draco can relate.</p><p>He writes to tell Pansy and Blaise that he’s come down with pox to keep them from questioning why he’s not coming round any more, and Theo spends more time in his flat than he does at his own home, but Draco is bored– and <i>restless</i>. He runs through the first few robberies that precipitated this whole thing, trying to remember any detail he can pass along to Potter to help. He sits and he thinks, and he thinks and he sits, and he comes up with nothing, <i>does</i> nothing but pace and whinge and worry.</p><p>Theo tells him that it’s not his job, that the Aurors are on it, they’ll figure it out, Potter won’t let this go until it’s finished, you <i>know</i> that, Draco, don’t you see how he looks at you– but Draco can’t help but think that if only he had the whole picture, he’d be able to piece it together, to figure out what everyone else is missing.</p><p>And then one morning, it comes to him.</p><p>That last robbery– the one that brought Draco to the Ministry, the one that got him all wrapped up in all of this– had been a family farm in Herefordshire, known for its long history as one of the few Delbarestivale apple growers in the country. The owner had been distraught, stating that three whole acres of trees had been razed, and they were desperate to recover any of the fruits that they could to try and regrow from the seeds.</p><p>Draco had correctly deduced that the farmer’s youngest son, referenced in a throwaway line as “not present with his family, presumably busy with his studies,” had been the one to actually do the deed. The owners had been effusive in their praise for the two eldest siblings, mentioning their support during this difficult time and all the work they’d put into the family business, but the youngest was barely a footnote.</p><p>Some apples had been recovered from markets throughout the country, tagged as they were with the family’s signature, and the son had been jailed, but when the owners went to try and coax the seeds to sprout, the soil was inexplicably dead– nothing could grow in it any longer. They’d been able to come up with the funds to buy a few extra acres of unused fields from a neighbor and were in the process of rebuilding, but those three acres were still sitting there, empty and unused– at least to the naked eye.</p><p>Three acres, Draco knows, may not seem like much– but wizard space can turn small spaces into vast ones.</p><p>Draco thinks for a while, quill paused over parchment. He needs to tell Potter, he knows this, but– something in him says that he’s got to handle this himself. Parsons was targeting <i>him</i> personally, after all.</p><p>Anyway, he’s already involved. Potter's already proven himself almost useless at detailed observation.</p><p>Mind made up, Draco scribbles down his message, sends it off with his owl, and prepares to leave his flat for the first time in weeks.</p><p>
  <i>Potter,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I think I’ve figured out where Parsons is. Am headed to Taylors Farms, at the edge of the dead zone. Meet me there if you can.</i>
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<hr/><p>Draco is sitting on the fence the Taylors put up to divide the dead soil from the fertile when Potter pops into view, looking furious. He waves cheekily. “Afternoon, Potter! Thrilling weather, wouldn’t you say?”</p><p>“You,” Potter growls, stalking forward, “are a fucking <i>idiot</i>. All the work we’ve put into keeping you safe, and you get some sort of insane, ill-founded <i>hunch</i> and do a runner?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Draco sniffs. “I told you exactly where I’d be, after all. Now, are you ready to hear what I’ve figured out?”</p><p>“Don’t you mean <i>Seen</i>?” Potter says snidely.</p><p>Draco frowns. “Certainly not, Potter. You know as well as I do that I’m not really a Seer, and there’s nobody else here. Now, are you going to listen?”</p><p>Potter blinks at him for a moment, then shakes his head and laughs a bit. “I...can’t say I ever expected to hear you say that, Malfoy, but fine—explain away.”</p><p>Draco walks him through what he’s come up with– the dead soil, the neglected son, the empty space, and—most importantly—the incredibly faint hum of Repelling wards he’s been able to detect from his perch on the fence.</p><p>Potter pulls out his wand and performs the tests himself, along with a few others that Draco’s not familiar with. “You’re...well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, Malfoy, but you’re absolutely right. This has to be it. Parsons and his whole merry band must be somewhere behind those wards. Alright, let’s head back to the Ministry– you’ll put on your little song and dance, I’ll get a warrant, and we’ll get Mysteries the coordinates– they’ve been banging on for ages that if we can get them a more specific location, they’d be able to take down his wards that much faster. More importantly, though, we need to get you out of here. If Parsons has any sort of tracker on you at all—”</p><p>Draco nods and hurriedly hops off the fence. He’s beginning to regret the impulsivity that brought him here in person, instead of just sending his suspicions via letter, but since Potter’s here with him now, surely nothing will happen.</p><p>He should have known better than to think that– just as he reaches Potter’s side, someone bursts out from behind the warding in the field and shoots a Stunner his way. </p><p>Draco doesn’t have time to do anything but close his eyes and hope it doesn’t hurt too badly, but instead of the expected impact, he hears a grunt and a thud. He cracks an eye open to see that <i>Potter has actually leapt in front of him</i> taking the Stunner, and is now panting on the ground.</p><p>“Oh Merlin, you <i>idiot</i>,” Draco hisses, dropping to his knees and frantically casting <i>Ennervate</i> to try and bring Potter back, one eye on the rapidly-approaching figure. “You should have just let it hit me! <i>You’re</i> the trained Auror here, I’m useless in a duel, oh lord, we are going to <i>die out here</i>...”</p><p>“Not exactly,” a voice drawls as a wand suddenly pokes at Draco’s temple. “Drop your wand now, little Seer, and get to your feet, please and thank you.”</p><p>Draco sucks in a breath, letting his wand fall to the grass and staring desperately at Potter as he stands, hoping one of his <i>Ennervates</i> had done something– he’d never been good at recovery spells.</p><p>He thinks he sees one of Potter’s hands clench briefly. It will have to be enough.</p><p>Sighing, Draco turns to face the intruder. “So,” he says, drawing the word out. “Let me guess– Trent Parsons? And– I’m not dead because, oh, I’m sure it’s something tedious– you want something from me? I’m afraid I’m currently contracted elsewhere at the moment, so unfortunately I’ll have to decline– your interest is much appreciated, though.”</p><p>Parsons laughs. “They said you were funny. Unless you want Potter to die, little Seer, you’ll listen to what I have to say.”</p><p>Draco shrugs and steps back to the fence, leaning against a post, drawing Parsons away from Potter’s prone body. He does his best not to look over Parsons’ shoulder too much, but he thinks he sees Potter twitch slightly, and he can only hope he dropped his wand close enough for Potter to reach if he needs it. He crosses his arms and does his best to look bored. “Alright, fine. Talk. Reveal to me your grand plans, I’m sure they’re <i>nothing</i> I’ve ever heard from megalomaniac dictator-types before this…”</p><p>Eyes narrowed, Parsons advances on him. “That’s always been the problem with you Malfoys, you know. No respect. No sense of deference for your betters. Gets you in trouble every time. You’d best learn to keep that mouth of yours shut, little Seer– if you can behave yourself, I’ll reward you beyond your wildest dreams, but if you don’t learn your place, you’ll find that you don’t enjoy the terms of your employment very much at all.”</p><p>“You’re right, I’ve never learned deference,” Draco agrees. “Probably because I have literally never met any of my <i>betters</i>. Do point them out to me if they happen by, will you? I’d love to meet them.”</p><p>Parsons’ eyes gleam. He looks deranged. “I should have known you wouldn’t just <i>listen</i>,” he grits out, raising his wand to point between Draco’s eyes. “<i>Angar—</i>”</p><p>“I don’t think so!” Draco yelps, dropping down and kicking out, catching Parsons in the shin. “Potter!” he shouts, scrambling to his feet. “Potter, now would be an <i>excellent</i> time to wake back up and make a dashing rescue! Really, couldn’t be more heroic if you did it right now! <i>Potter, I don’t know how to fight like a Muggle!</i>”</p><p>Parsons is laughing now, hopping a bit on his uninjured leg. “You may as well just give up, little Seer. You’ve got nobody coming to help you.” He aims again. “<i><b>Angar—</b></i>”</p><p>“<i>Expelliarmus!</i>” A beam of red light hits Parsons square between his shoulders, and his wand goes flying. Draco runs to snatch it up, babbling out an <i>Incarcerous</i> before Parsons can charge him. Thankfully, it hits, and Parsons falls to the ground, tangled up in black silks.</p><p>Potter is rolled over onto his side, Draco’s wand in his outstretched hand. He’s wheezing a bit, but as Draco approaches, he’s gratified to see that Potter’s eyes are clear.</p><p>“Black silk, Malfoy, really? What <i>are</i> you using that spell for these days?” Potter jokes, coughing a bit as Draco helps him sit up. He hands Draco his wand, fumbling about for his own. “Glad to see that old stick still works for me– would have been a bit of a bother if it hadn’t.”</p><p>“Oh, certainly, Potter, <i>just a spot of bother</i>,” Draco says, a bit hysterically. He sits back on his heels and passes a shaking hand over his face. “Merlin. Is this what law enforcement is always like? See, <i>this</i> is why I’ve decided to stay away from employment. I don’t have the constitution for events like this.”</p><p>Potter shakily climbs to his feet and pulls a rubber ball out of his pocket. Limping over to Parsons, he tucks it into his bound hand, then taps it once with his wand and a whispered word. In a flash, Parsons has disappeared. “Keyword-trigger Portkey,” he explains when he finds Draco staring at him. “Transported him straight to the holding cells at the Ministry. We’ll check his wand in when we get back.”</p><p>Draco glances down at Parsons’ wand, still clenched in his other hand. “Yes, of course.” He considers it for a moment. "You know, now that I've actually <i>seen</i> that spell being cast, you know, really <i>felt</i> the magic build-up before went anywhere, between that and this wand, I think we could really dig in and work back and figure out what's going on with it, work out how to undo it, you know? Didn't you say they haven't been able to lift the effects yet, I'm quite sure that given some time and space I'd be able to—"</p><p>“Malfoy—” Potter’s next to him again, one hand on Draco’s shoulder as he cuts off the stream of words. “Are you alright? I know that must have been a terrible shock, and I’m so sorry you had to go through this—”</p><p>“You’re <i>sorry</i>??” Draco explodes, shooting to his feet and stepping up to crowd into Potter’s space. “Merlin, Potter, I thought you were <i>dead</i>. I thought I was going to have to watch him <i>murder</i> you in front of me, you idiot, why didn’t you just let the Stunner hit <i>me</i>, you would have taken him out in about a second, what on earth were you <i>thinking</i>—”</p><p>“I don’t <i>know!</i>” Potter shouts back. “I don’t, okay! I just– I saw the spell coming your way and I couldn’t– I didn’t want to– oh, <i>fuck it!</i>” And he grabs the front of Draco’s shirt and hauls him in for a kiss.</p><p>It takes Draco a second, but as soon as he snaps out of his daze, he’s participating fully, winding his arms around Potter’s back and pulling them as close as possible, pressed together from chest to knees. Potter’s almost <i>biting</i> him, the kiss is so intense, but Draco’s returning as good as he’s getting.</p><p>After a minute, they calm down, and Potter pulls back after one more gentle kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth. He takes a step away and reaches up to rub the back of his neck, ducking his head and looking sheepish. “Err. I—Merlin, Malfoy, I’m so <i>sorry</i>. I didn’t mean to just– <i>attack</i> you like that, I just—”</p><p>Draco lifts a hand to stop him, running a tongue thoughtfully over his swollen lower lip. He sees Potter’s gaze drop to follow the motion. “Don’t apologize, Potter. Or, if you feel that you must, apologize for <i>stopping</i>—that was going somewhere quite mutually enjoyable, I think.”</p><p>Potter’s turning pink, again. “Right. Right, it’s just– we really <i>do</i> need to go back to the Ministry. I didn’t think it would be– we can’t be too late, and we can’t look like we’ve been…<i>occupied</i>.”</p><p>Draco’s absolutely <i>delighted</i> to see just how red Potter can get when he’s truly embarrassed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, Potter—we’ll just have to <i>occupy</i> ourselves when we’re done. Shall we head back then? Sooner started, sooner finished, after all…”</p><p>Potter lifts his head, and oh, his smile is <i>wicked</i>. He holds out an arm. “Of course, Malfoy. Side-Along?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. i’ve heard it both ways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Draco held his breath as he crept down the staircase. He had to be careful to avoid the creaky steps, or Dobby would catch him out of bed and take him back to his room with a lecture. He </i>knew<i> it was late– he had to keep himself up special until all the guests had gone home, and he wasn’t going to let a stinky house-elf tell him what to do when he’d made it this far.</i></p><p>
  <i>At the base of the stairs, he pressed himself into the shadows along the walls and sidled down the hallway, heading towards the ballroom doors. They were barely open, letting a thin blade of light and faint music spill out into the hall. He finally tiptoed right in front of the doors, angling to peek through the crack.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>His mother and father were dancing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>They did this after every gala– when the guests were gone, after the decorations and leftover hors d'oeuvres were Vanished, before the elves chased them out so they could properly clean the floors, they put the music back on and danced, just the two of them out in the middle of the floor.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco watched as his father twirled his mother around and dipped her. She laughed and clutched at his shoulders when he pretended he’d let her fall. He pulled her back in close for a kiss, then stepped back and set them up for what Draco recognized as a traditional waltz.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco sat on the carpet and watched until he fell asleep, slumped over against the door. He was vaguely aware some time later of being lifted, hearing his parents murmur back and forth as his father carried him back up the stairs.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He woke up a bit further when he was placed gently into bed and the blanket was pulled up to his chin. “Father?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Shh. It’s very late, Draco, you shouldn’t have stayed up. When did you sneak back downstairs?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco wiggled to get comfortable, closing his eyes again. “Wanted to see you and Mother dancing,” he said muzzily. “Father, can I come to the party next month?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>His father chuckled lowly. “Perhaps– if you mind your mother for the next few weeks and go to bed when you’re supposed to.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I can do that…”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“We’ll see, Draco.” He felt a kiss on his forehead. “Son, I think the best piece of advice I can give you is– when you find someone challenges you, who makes you be better, who makes you laugh, and who loves you through all your faults– you hold onto them. You do whatever you can to make them as happy as they make you.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Izzat you and Mother?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes, Draco. It is. Now go to sleep. You still have lessons in the morning.”<br/>
</i></p><p><i>"Yes, Father."
</i>
</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>For once, Potter’s Side-Along doesn’t make Draco want to spew the second they reach their destination. He’s not sure if it’s because his stomach is already doing cartwheels, or if he’s so sufficiently distracted by recent events that it simply isn’t bothering him this time.</p><p><i>Potter kissed him</i>. Merlin, and what a kiss it had been, too! Draco touches his lips and shoots a glance towards Potter, gratified to see he’s as pink and dazed-looking as Draco himself feels.</p><p>“Draco…” Potter starts, eyes shining. He takes a step closer, and Draco tilts his head on instinct, because the look on Potter’s face…</p><p>Naturally, because Draco has <i>the worst luck</i>, that’s when they’re interrupted by a horde of Aurors, and Potter takes a hasty step back. Draco sighs and forces his mind back to the somewhat-pressing capture and arrest of Trent Parsons, and the upcoming work to reverse-engineer the <i>Angario</i> spell in order to attempt to reverse its effects on the afflicted. He has to admit, he’s fairly excited at the prospect of being involved in something so challenging, even if it <i>is</i> proper work at the behest of the Ministry.</p><p>Merlin, Lucius would be rolling in his grave at the prospect. If he were dead, that is.</p><p>“Minister? What’s going on?” Something in Potter’s tone snaps Draco’s attention back to present surroundings, and he’s shocked to see a thunderously-frowning Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in front of them, arms crossed, with a smug Hugh Johnson at his side, and Head Auror Robards just behind. Johnson has a thick file clutched in his sweaty-looking hands, and he looks sickly triumphant. Something in Draco’s stomach turns slightly at that expression being directed his way.</p><p>“Minister, Malfoy and I were able to track down and arrest Trent Parsons, the wizard responsible for that horrible spell. I sent him down to the holding cells, and Malfoy got a good enough look at the spell in action that he thinks he can get started on reversing its effects with enough research, is there...something the matter?” Potter looks unsure, voice diffident in a way Draco’s never heard.</p><p>“Unfortunately, Harry, something <i>is</i> the matter. As you well know, I tasked Hugh with reviewing any case files Malfoy was involved in during his probationary period, and asked him to follow up on anything that seemed out of order or at all suspicious. A few weeks ago, Hugh noticed a discrepancy in the Haynes report, and–”</p><p>“Minister, if you please, may I walk Auror Potter through my discovery?” Johnson sounds almost <i>gleeful</i>, and a curl of dread interrupts Draco’s euphoria.</p><p>Kingsley looks a bit startled at the interruption, but gestures at Johnson to continue.</p><p>Johnson takes a deep breath and snaps open his file. “In the course of my review of the Haynes case, I noted down here where you, Potter, had written that a prophetic vision from Malfoy is what led you to direct your team to reach out to Haynes for an interview in the first place. It says here that Malfoy had a <i>feeling</i>—” Draco can <i>feel</i> the air quotes “—that Colton was directly involved, not just the victim of a shoddy supply chain. <i>However</i>–” he flips to the next page, “–we’ve a note here from someone who worked at Haynes Tinctures, stating they’d seen Malfoy in the offices <i>the day prior</i> to the recorded vision! Isn’t that interesting?” Johnson closes the file and turns to Draco, pinched mouth curling into a mean smile. “What do you think about that, Malfoy? What kind of <i>vision</i> was it really, if you’d been there the day before? How can you claim any sort of Seer ability <i>at all</i>, if all you did was lie your way into the facility—and isn’t <i>that</i> just typical of your dear old father? It seems he’s taught you well! Auror Potter, I’m sorry to say that Draco Malfoy has been <i>lying</i> to you, and to the Ministry as a whole, which is a clear violation of the terms of his contract, which means that he must be arrested and—”</p><p>“May I see the report?” Potter’s voice is polite, but firm.</p><p>Draco closes his eyes and breathes, thankful for the respite, but– well, this is it for him, isn’t it. When he opens his eyes again, Shacklebolt and Robards are both staring directly at him, frowning, and Robards has one hand on his wand holster. He racks his brain for a cover, a justification, hell, a flat-out <i>lie</i> would do at this point, but he comes up completely empty– for perhaps the first time in his entire life, Draco Malfoy can’t think of anything to say.</p><p>Before he can get too comfortable with the idea of life in Azkaban, though, he glances at Potter and sees him flipping through the report and frowning. “Say, Hugh– it says here that the employee who claims they saw Malfoy is one of our curse victims– in fact, she’s one of the victims who was hardest-hit and hasn’t been able to fight off any of any of Haynes’ suggestions at all. Parsons has known we were closing in on him for weeks. Do you have anything beyond this person’s word that Draco was there when you say he was?” Potter’s tone is polite, curious– but tinged with just the right amount of disbelief. Draco’s impressed despite himself.</p><p>Johnson sputters. “Well– I mean– there’s the sign-in sheet from the day before you went to the interview! It says that two potential employees named Cygnus Rosier and <i>Drooble Honeyduke</i> came in for an interview and tour! That’s so clearly Malfoy and that friend of his, the banker!”</p><p>Potter’s lips twist just the smallest bit, and he turns back to the file, flipping through until he reaches the sign-in sheet. “Hmm…” he says noncommittally, running his finger along the list until he locates the names. Draco holds his breath. “Well, Hugh, I’m sorry to say it, but I’m afraid it’s just not possible that this was Malfoy. He was with me during this time– I’d asked him to perform a reading over a sample of the nerve regrowth potion I’d brought back to my home, and he was there all afternoon, trying to See some information from it. He was, unfortunately, not successful, until he Owled me the next day with the vision that led us to Haynes for the initial interview.”</p><p>“WHAT??” Johnson screeches. Shacklebolt’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and Robards’ brow is wrinkled. “But– no– Minister, Potter is <i>covering</i> for Malfoy, can’t you see it?? He’s managed to hoodwink Harry, he’s tricking all of you, he’s <i>just like his father!</i>”</p><p>“Enough!” shouts Shacklebolt. “Johnson, control yourself! <i>Senior Auror</i> Potter has vouched for Malfoy’s location during the event in question, and furthermore, he’s right about the witness– she’s barely been able to tell us her name without Haynes’ permission, even though he claims he’s doing his best to let go of the spell. I’m sorry, Hugh, but you were wrong about this one– Draco’s bona fides remain intact, especially now that he’s assisted in bringing Parsons in.” Shacklebolt steps forwards and sticks his hand towards Draco, who takes it in a daze. “Mr Malfoy, I apologize for this accusation and the inconvenience. Your assistance in this nasty matter has been invaluable, and the Ministry owes you a debt of gratitude. I’ll leave you in Senior Auror Potter’s…<i>capable hands</i> for the debrief and reporting.” Draco notes the barely-there emphasis and catches a flicker of a wink before Shacklebolt turns and ushers Robards and a still-shouting Johnson down the hall, away from Potter’s office.</p><p>Draco stands still, confused, until Potter’s chuckle sets him in motion again. Potter puts his hand on Draco’s lower back and guides him into the office, locking the door and setting up several silencing and privacy charms.</p><p>“Potter…you do know that I wasn’t <i>actually</i> at your house that afternoon, yes?” Draco says hesitantly.</p><p>Potter rolls his eyes. “Yes, Malfoy, you know, I think I’d have noticed you being there. Did you maybe want to try, ‘thanks for covering for me, Harry, I won’t make such a stupid, impulsive mistake next time’?”</p><p>Draco’s jaw drops. “Stupid! Impulsive! You would never have even <i>thought</i> to interview Haynes directly if it weren’t for me, this <i>entire case</i> was solved because of <i>me</i>, you call me <i>stupid</i>, never in my life have I—mmph!” He’s silenced by Potter shoving him up against the office door and kissing him quite thoroughly.</p><p>Draco’s panting when Potter moves back and kisses his cheekbone. “Are you finished?” he whispers into Draco’s ear, triggering gooseflesh and a full-body shiver.</p><p>“I...yes?” Harry’s hair smells like apples, Draco notes distractedly.</p><p>“Good.” Potter sounds far too smug. “Now, we’ve quite a lengthy report to fill out, but nothing says it has to be done here. What do you say we write it up at your place? I promise to distract you at <i>least</i> once every half-hour as it gets tedious…” He nips Draco’s jaw.</p><p>“Yes, good,” Draco says faintly. “That sounds...we can do that.”</p><p>“And then, just so you know, it’s Ministry protocol that when a case this big gets solved, and one Auror is so personally involved, they have to take the remainder of the week and the entire following one off, to rest and recover and get their head on right. What do you say, Malfoy, you want to help me get some head?”</p><p>Draco groans and shoves Potter back. The prat is <i>laughing</i>. “Ugh, Potter, that was dreadful. Please don’t try to make innuendo jokes, <i>ever</i>– it’s best left to the experts. As far as this time off...you may not know this about me, but I’ve got a lot of free time when I’m not being hauled in to cover for the Auror department’s incompetence—<i>ouch</i>, you arse, you don’t know your own strength, this is Auror brutality—I could probably be persuaded to spend some of that time with you, if you were to make it worth my while.”</p><p>“Oh, I can assure you, it will be.” Potter’s eyes are twinkling. Draco both fears and loves what that look might mean for him.</p><p>“Well, then. I suppose I’ll meet you back at mine, then.”</p><p>“Wait– we aren’t going together?”</p><p>“Certainly not, Potter. You need to trot on home and pick up some clothes– once I get you in my flat, you’re not leaving until I’ve had you over every available surface, and vice versa.”</p><p>Potter sucks in a sharp breath at that, and Draco smirks. “Well, Potter? Are you coming? Or are you just all talk?”</p><p>“Shut <i>up</i>, Malfoy.”</p><p>“Make me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>go watch psych if you haven't, it's phenomenal.</p><p>there are a few easter eggs in here- would love to hear from you if you've caught any!</p><p>***</p><p>This work is part of "Lights, Camera, Drarry" (LCDrarry), a film-, TV- and theatre-inspired Drarry fest.<br/>
The creators will be revealed on <a href="http://lcdrarry.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LCDrarry2020/works">AO3</a> on 15 June 2020.</p><p>Please show your appreciation to the creator with kudos and comments :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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